A Thin Line
by Duchess Emma
Summary: Merlin and Morgana wake up handcuffed together in Cenred's dungeon. They have to put their hatred aside and  work together to get out of this predicament. Will Merlin finally admit his magic? It's a thin line between love and hate. Very thin.
1. Shackled

**I've always liked love/hate storylines, particularly ones where a couple is put into challenging circumstances, only to come out of it together. This story takes place pretty quickly after the end of Series 3.**

A Thin Line

Chapter 1

He was having the best dream.

She smelled amazing, like lilacs and cinnamon. Homey and exotic at the same time. And her hair was soft, he rubbed his cheek against it. Like spun silk. She moaned softly, her back arching and pushing her luscious bottom right against his very aroused flesh. He groaned in response, burying his lips in her neck. He pulled her closer, rubbing his hand in circles on her cloth covered belly.

"Mmm," she murmured, the sound vibrating against his lips at her neck. His thumbs brushed against the undersides of her breasts. She was so full and lush, he was dying to touch her, to rip off her bodice and feast on her-

Clink. And then another clink. There was a weight on his hand and he felt a slight throbbing in his head.

It was then he realized it wasn't a dream. This wasn't his bed and he didn't usually have a woman next to him. His eyes opened and he shot up, taking in his surroundings.

They were in some type of dungeon (he'd been in Camelot's enough to know what one looked like.) The room was dark and damp surrounding, with the straw pallet and a small bench on one side. A small barred window at the top of the tall room let in few rays of light. There were slots on the walls to hold chains and manacles.

Suddenly remembering the clink sound which had awakened him, he looked down at his manacled wrist. Only his hands weren't manacled together or to the wall like one would expect. Rather he was attached to a woman's delicate wrist.

It was then that he noticed the woman next to him. Or rather he noticed exactly who it was.

He was manacled to a woman with brilliant jade eyes, dark raven hair, and lips the dark red of sin. It was Morgana-his mortal enemy, traitor to Camelot, Arthur's half sister, and the sorceress who'd nearly killed him and numerous others mere months ago.

And most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, one who had enchanted him from the moment he set eyes on her.

Her eyes fluttered a few times and a soft smile curved her lips before she looked at him and shot up. "You!" she said with all the hatred and disgust that one said of vermin. She backed away as far as the chain would allow, her eyes angry. "What have you done? Where am I? Oww…my head."

"Here, let me help you," he said, reaching for her head.

"No!" she practically shouted again as she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" Tenderly she touched the slight bump on her head and winced. "You probably did this to me."

"Yeah, and right after, I gave myself one," he said, pointing to the same bump on his head.

She gave him a hard stare but said nothing.

Looking around, she said tersely, "Where are we?"

"A dungeon. God knows where. But I forgot, you've only been in Camelot's once. What a hard life you must've lead," he said sarcastically.

Her reaction to his touch had wounded him, reminding him of exactly how much she hated him. Mere moments before she had welcomed his touch, now he was a pariah, untouchable.

"You have no idea. You never did," she said with venom. He had to bite his tongue at that response.

She was the one who had no idea. No idea of the hardships he faced on a daily basis, no idea how difficult it was his keep his magic a secret, to constantly work toward a destiny that seems so out of reach. And now he was trapped in the dungeon with a woman who loathed his very existence. Yet another thing he had to contend with.

Jingling her wrist at the manacles, she said, "How the hell did this happen?"

"No idea. I….er…woke up like this." He tried to sound harsh and to avoid blushing as the memories of exactly how he woke up assailed him. It wasn't easy. He could still remember the perfect way they fit together, her bottom notched against his groin. But she was his enemy, one thing he shouldn't forget.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both pondering the implications of their present situation. He was desperate to try some of his magic, to see if he could undo this mess and get them both out of there. But it was too risky, he would have to wait until she was asleep or not glaring at him with hatred as she was now. Or maybe…

"Can't you just magic your way out of here? Or at least out of these?" he said, indicating the manacles around their arms.

She pulled back on manacles, "Good idea, Merlin. Then I'll leave you to rot in this place."

Her eyes suddenly glowed orange as she muttered a quick spell. Moments passed and nothing happened. She stayed in the room and she stayed chained to him. She whispered the words again and her eyes lit up.

And still nothing. She cursed loudly.

"What? Not powerful enough? Or do you really want to spend more time with me, _my lady_?" he said with mock humility.

"Neither. As you've seen many a time, Merlin, I'm plenty powerful. But my magic won't work here. And it appears I've answered our other question. I know exactly where we are," she said.

"Oh?" said Merlin.

"Yes, _Merlin_. We're in Cenred's dungeon, or rather what used to be Cenred's before Morgause killed him. It's Orsric's kingdom now, which means that we're both in a whole mess of trouble."

Just then the door opened with a loud and rusty squeak to emit the very man they had just spoken of.

Flanked by two guardsmen entered King Orsric, Cenred's cousin and heir to the throne. And if the rumors were to be believed, a cruel man who used any means necessary to get what he wanted. He was ruthless, dangerous, and something of a madman. It was whispered that he would torture his own mother if she had information he needed.

They both stood as the dangerous tyrant entered. A hardened warrior, his tall form showed layers of muscle, well hidden beneath expensive yards of fabric. He wore no crown but the deadly look on his face showed blatant authority. He silently surveyed the room and took in their straw covered clothing and manacled hands.

"More than a 'mess' of trouble, I'd say. I hope you've been comfortable here, my lady," he said in a voice of what would be considered courtly politeness, if not for the steely undertone.

"Comfortable? Really? You call this comfortable? Chaining me to my half brother's serving boy and throwing me into your dungeon? How dare you! When my sister hears of this she will-" said Morgana angrily.

Orsric interrupted, "Such a temper. I've heard it's your undoing. And your sister will know of this soon enough. She's the reason you're here."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you guessed? I want revenge for the death of my cousin. I can't deny that Morgause made me a King, but the people clamor for revenge. And I'm more than happy to oblige," Orsric boredly examining his blood stained nails.

"Then what am I doing here?" said Merlin boldly.

"Ah, yes, you. I also have plans for Arthur. Thinking of expanding my boundries. And while I thought he might not come for the half sister who nearly destroyed his kingdom, he has a decided attachment to servants in his household. Besides, if he doesn't come, I can always torture information about Camelot's weaknesses out of you."

"Never," said Merlin dangerously.

"Don't be so cocky, my dear boy. Tongues loosen rather quickly after a few pulls from my many tools. But keep up that bravery, it might do you some good _here_," Orsric said, suggestively running his eyes over Morgana.

"When I get out of here, Orsric, I'll tear your bollocks off!" shouted Morgana, advancing towards him. Merlin quickly saw that she was ready to attack and knew that it would mean death for both of them. He looped his arm around her waist and held her back as she fought to get at the Orsric.

"Again, that temper, my lady. Besides, considering that your sister was kind enough to block magic in this dungeon for my cousin's magical prisoners, that won't be happening any time soon. I'd suggest you two enjoy my hospitality. And try not to kill each other. Well, at least not yet." And with those parting words, he swept out of the room and slammed the door.

"Let me go," she said pushing his arm away. "You should've let me at him."

"Oh and get us both killed? I think not. Orsric's a brutal bastard. One scratch and he would've killed you. Or at the least have given you a hit you wouldn't soon forget."

"I didn't realize you cared so much," she said with mock sweetness.

"I don't care about you," he said. Well, that was something of a lie. He'd seen the glint of steel in Orsric's eyes. Orsric had wanted Morgana to fight, he just needed an excuse to hurt her. "I just don't fancy being latched to a dead body."

**FINIS**

**Should I continue? A bit angsty, I know. I haven't really attempted to write a post Series 3 fic about these two, I usually prefer to rewrite history so that Morgana doesn't go completely evil. Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this. Not entirely sure where this is going to go but I'm sure they'll be some interesting sexual tension between these two (which means the rating will go up). Please review!**


	2. Logical Hatred, Unexpected Lust

**Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews! They always brighten my day and keep me going, but even more so here. I'd recently put up the final chapter to my Downton Abbey story "Gretna Green" and absolutely no one reviewed (still haven't actually). It was a little upsetting, as I thought it was some of my best smut to date and a chapter I worked really hard to finish. Anyways, thank you everyone in the Mergana camp for your continued support.**

**Chapter 2**

After Orsric's visit and their brief exchange, they settled into silence, interspersed with glares from each of them. It was awkward to be latched to one another, particularly as Merlin wanted to pace (it always helped him think), but even more awkward when the person you were attached to was your worst enemy.

But after the third hour of silence, he couldn't take it anymore. They needed to get out of here and they needed each other for that.

"We should work together to find a way out," he said cautiously.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because you want out of here as much as I do. Particularly, with as many body parts as you came in," he said.

"No, that's not my question. Why would I want to work with _you_?" she said with a sniff.

He sighed dramatically, "I'd think that would be obvious, two minds better than one and all that. "

"How do I know I can trust you? You're no friend to me."

"Ditto. Look, I'm not saying I want to work with you. What I'm saying is that we need to work together."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I work with you."

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in Hell and it's pretty damn chilly," he said indicating the room around them. "Look, you can't use your magic, so you need me."

"I don't need anyone, particularly not you."

"Well, here and now, I'm your only hope."

"No, you're my doom. You attempt to kill me with poisons or throw me down stairs. Never face to face. How do I know this isn't another one of your dastardly tricks to get rid of me?"

Angry, he moved closer, "Yes, because I'm the one who's so adept at trickery and deceit Do you know how many times I've woken up to the nightmare of you choking? How many days that I couldn't think for fear of you? Do you know how many nights I spent praying that you were alive and cursing you for your treachery? Do you know how ecstatic I was to find you alive after nearly a year? No, you know none of it. Because all you see is your hatred. All you see is power and bitterness. All you're capable of is betrayal."

"Betrayal? You tried to kill me!"

"You were already lost to us by then. You'd chosen your side. I had to choose mine and I chose Camelot."

"Morgause is my sister. I couldn't turn my back on my family," she said fiercely.

"And Arthur wasn't a brother to you? Uther wasn't at least some semblance of a parent to you?"

"He despises what I really am. He will never see past his own hatred of magic," she said, turning her back on him, something akin to pain in her eyes.

"And neither will you. And where was Morgause all these years? Why didn't she come to you before? Why did she wait so long to find you? Convenient, isn't it? Only when you came into magic did she decide to own you, to use you for her own ends."

She turned around, her eyes flaring with anger, "Shut up! You know nothing of my sister or of me. You know nothing of magic."

"I know magic is a gift, to be used for the good of humanity. Not to tyrannize people and gain power. You're no better than Uther."

She slapped him across the face with her free hand. But he continued in a soft whisper, his eyes locking with hers, "The girl I used to know never would've hurt Camelot or the people who loved her. She never would've tried to kill her best friend. She never would've killed innocent people. She never would've turned and run when there was a fine fight to be had at home."

"That girl was naïve. She was a fool," she said, her eyes looking away

"Camelot needs more fools. Maybe Uther won't stop his prejudice, but Arthur will. And now you've done more to harden his heart against magic than you can ever imagine."

Angry again, she raised her hand, as if to strike him again and he caught it with his own free hand. He meant to push her away, to put some space between them. They both breathed hard, their angry puffs mingling together. It was then that he noticed how close they were; mere inches separated their lips. Her eyes had gone wide as if she too realized exactly how close they were. But that didn't stop her eyes from darting back and forth between his gaze and his lips.

He covered her mouth with his. It was meant to be a punishing kiss, a kiss that dominated, that told her how much she had hurt him, hurt Camelot, hurt Arthur's future. Instead, as he felt their lips connect, he stilled and gentled the kiss. He expected it to be fire and lust, anger and muted pain-instead it was like slipping into a warm bath at the end of a hard day of work. Warm heat spread through his body, delicious pleasure coursed through every nerve ending. It was comforting….right even. Like he was supposed to do this, like they weren't mortal enemies but lovers.

He brushed his lips against her over and over, pressing harder each time. She moaned softly and pulled him closer, bringing their lips and bodies flush. His free hand moved to her hair, tilting her head to the side. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against the seam of her lips and demanding entrance. With an erotic sigh, she acquiesced and he tentatively flicked his tongue inside. He ran it over the ridge of her teeth and then he thrust in and brushed against hers. Her back arched into his body as she returned the kiss, tangling her tongue with his, sucking his tongue into her delicious mouth. He moaned loudly, his whole body taut with arousal. His hand softly fisted in her luscious hair, determined to have not even a centimeter between them. She seemed to be of the same thought as she moved to wrap her arms around his neck. But as the handcuffs clinked again, it had the same effect as if a loud bell had just tolled.

She tore her lips away from his and shoved him with her free hand. Having properly separated them, she placed her hand on her now heaving chest, eyes wide and shocked. He couldn't look away from her; there was clear evidence of her arousal, of her response evident in her reddened lips and mussed hair.

He had two thoughts at that moment: one, she looked beautiful, not malicious or deathly or villainous, but as she used to be, as she was before everything had turned upside down. Amazing how one kiss had taken off the veneer of evil from her stunning face. And two, he wanted to kiss her again. And again.

She regained her composure, the smug smirk back in its proper place, although not quite as perfected.

"Kiss me again and I'll be the one latched the dead body," she said, although there wasn't as much threat as the words might suggest.

He said nothing, still stunned by what had just happened. .

"Now about this plan, here's what I was thinking…"she said and began to detail a rather intricate and useful plan to get them out of this dungeon.

**FINIS**

**Apparently Morgana's more susceptible to Merlin's form of persuasion than she thought. Now they're working together, despite the kiss and we'll see how that plan works. I loved writing the dialogue for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. **

**Thanks again for the reviews! I love how overzealous Mergana fans are, particularly as there really is such little evidence in the show itself for our fanbase. It just makes us more creative, right?**


	3. Escape

**Let's see what scheme these two have come up with for escape. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

"Are you ready?" he whispered, kneeling over her.

She smirked from her position sprawled on her back, "Haven't you noticed, Merlin? I'm always ready."

"Here we go," he mumbled and then said loudly. "Guard! Guard! Help! The Lady's ill. We need help!"

Keys fumbled outside the door and in burst a rather large guard. He rushed towards the still woman, kneeling on the other side of Morgana, opposite Merlin.

"What's wrong with her? What's happened?" asked the guard.

She opened her eyes, "Nothing at all." Then she promptly punched him in groin. As he lulled back on the floor, groaning in pain, Merlin helped her up. He handed her the guard's sword and they made for the open door.

Another guard appeared at the door and Morgana moved towards him, sword at the ready. She thrust forward, trying to use her free hand exclusively. But the guard was big and strong, he easily blocked her strike.

Grabbing the sword with both hands, the tried to maneuver with Merlin a few inches away. He ducked and moved as best as possible, but two people gave the guard more targets. His sword sliced a scant inch from Merlin's shoulder before she blocked it. She grunted in frustration. This guard was the only thing between them and freedom. She'd faced stronger opponents, she could get past this man.

Attacking with renewed zeal, she struck his upper arm. The guard staggered a little, clutching his wound and lowering his sword. It was the opportunity they had been waiting for.

She made for the door, Merlin at her heels, when suddenly, she was yanked backward by the manacle on her arm. She fell back , landing with a thud against Merlin, the sword flying out of her hand.

The first guard had come to and had tripped Merlin, causing them to fall like dominos.

Both guards stood over them, the first with his foot on her wrist, preventing her struggling fingers from reaching for the sword. The second had the blade of his sword against Merlin's throat.

"I think we've had enough playtime, don't you agree, my lady?" said the first guard. He pressed a little harder against her delicate wrist before removing his beefy foot.

They forced them to get up and move the back of the room before firmly locking the door.

Failure. She cursed. Epic failure.

"I'm sorry that he was able to trip me. I tried to shake him, but he had my leg in a tight bind. Groping grip more like," said Merlin.

"It's fine," she said, angry with herself. She should've been better. Her skills had become a little rusty (although the manacles didn't help) .Had she cut down the second guard sooner, they would've been gone before the first came to.

They didn't talk much after that. She kept rubbing her sore wrist and Merlin kept frowning. Food came an hour later, shoved through a tiny little hole at the bottom of the door. It was the first meal they'd been given all day and they both fell on it ravenously.

Darkness was already starting to fall by the time they finished. The few rays of sunlight gone from the room. It was black and the room got colder.

"We'd best get to bed. Orsric's bound to pay us another visit plus we'll need our strength for another escape attempt."

"Oh and how do you propose we…situate ourselves? I'm not cuddling with you," she said. Although the idea of cuddling wasn't totally unpleasant. For warmth, of course.

He fluffed up the straw, kicking it into two separate piles several inches apart. It would give them enough space for their own beds and enough room to keep the manacles slack. Grabbing what appeared to be a rather large, though dingy blanket from the bench, he threw it down on top of the two piles.

"I realize it's not a suite fit for a Queen, but it'll have to do. We'll sleep under the blanket."

She shivered. Her velvet gown was lovely but it wasn't very warm. She'd give anything for one of her cloaks right about now.

Seeing her shiver, Merlin had removed his jacket, ripping his sleeve and shoulder to get it off his arm. "Here, take this. They must've taken your fabulously gaudy cloak that fools no one."

"Thank you," she said, more grateful than she anticipated. "And my cloaks aren't gaudy. Besides, you're the only one that I needed to fool. You're the only one who follows me."

"Well, the plethora of bold colors always made it easy," he said with a chuckle.

She sniffed but he did have a point. They settled into bed, under the blanket, Merlin's jacket slung over her upper body.

She stared up at the ceiling. This wasn't the most comfortable bed she'd slept on, but it wasn't as bad as she had expected. In fact, this morning really hadn't been horrible at all….She remembered just how close they were, their bodies spooning together perfectly.…And had he kissed her neck? His hands had been everywhere, why they almost caressed her breasts. Had he wanted to? Had she wanted that?

No, no, certainly not. And to prove it, she said, "Just don't molest me tonight, ok?"

"You didn't seem to mind," he said, a smile in his voice.

"I had a head injury! I was clearly addled," she said back, grateful that the darkness hid her blush.

"And I didn't have one as well? How I am to know it wasn't you taking advantage of me?"

"Ugh, you're impossible," she said with annoyance she turned to her side. .

He merely laughed. After a few moments, he said, "Don't worry, I have no such plans. I promise if you'll promise."

"That'll be easy for me. I promise. Now go to bed."

"Goodnight, Morgana."

"Yeah, yeah, goodnight, Merlin."

She tried not to think on how intimate that sounded. Or how nice it felt to sleep next to someone. Not just someone but Merlin. She closed her eyes and thought of freedom. They'd try another plan tomorrow. With any luck she'd be reunited with her sister by this time tomorrow. And if not, Morgause would find a way to get them… rather her out of here. She didn't give a fig about Merlin. He was useful, helpful, that was all.

She wouldn't make the mistake of trusting him again. She wouldn't forget the past.

And with that thought, she closed her eyes.

**FINIS**

**Next chapter things will likely get steamy. Or at least, something's naughty will happen. I'm thinking the rating might go up next chapter, parts of it are already written.**

**Review and help me finish? Please?**


	4. Keep your Enemies Closer

Chapter 4

Less than three hours later, she gasped awake, sitting straight up in the makeshift bed. The dreams, the dreams had returned. They were more horrible and graphic than she could've imagined. Almost as if holding them at bay for so long made them all the more eager to get out.

Graphic images of death. Bloodied bodies. Missing limbs. Naked terror on the faces of men, women, children alike.

But that wasn't the worst part. Littered among the dead bodies were the lifeless faces, the pale skin with sightless eyes of Arthur. .

Her own face among them.

Her face was bathed in tears and sweat, her breathing rapid. _It's only a dream. It's only a dream. It's not a prophecy. I'm stronger than this. I'm stronger than this, _she repeated the old mantra to herself. It hadn't worked then. It wasn't working now.

"Morgana?" asked a scratchy voice from beside her. "What's happened?"

She turned towards his voice, unable to hide the tears streaming down her face. He was still on his back, clearly woken by her distress. He looked worried. Concerned. He raised his hand and she felt a feather light touch stroke her back. His touch was uncertain, awkward even. As if he didn't know her reaction, as if he feared the rejection she was all too likely to give.

She should've resisted, should've given him the scathing retort he deserved. Should've raged at him, should've told him she was no longer some scared girl under Uther's tyranny, frightened of her own power.

Instead his touch broke her. Because he needn't have touched her and yet he had. The small gesture of comfort offered with sincerity…goodness….all the things she had long ago forgotten that Merlin possessed. Who would've thought such a gentle gesture could make her go willingly into the arms of her enemy?

With a sob, she threw herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest. She cried hard. Tears torn from her very soul.

He stroked soft circles on her back and held her close, and he said nothing. Not one word of condemnation. Not one word of censure. He merely let her cry out her frustration and fear.

After what seemed like hours, although it was likely only a few minutes, she quieted. Deep, shuddering breaths escaped her lips, but no more tears, no more sobs.

It was then she noticed exactly how close they were. His fingers kept stroking up and down her back, sometimes tangling in her hair. Her head was nestled into the curve of his shoulder and arms, her lips a few inches from his strangely exposed neck.

His body was turned on its side towards her, his free arm stroking her back as his other arm acted as a neckrest. Aside from her head and arm, several inches separated their bodies, yet she was incredibly aware of how easy it would be to press herself against him.

She pulled back suddenly. Disgusted at her thoughts, still uncertain of what to say, what to do. She never felt vulnerable like this. Not anymore. Morgause saw her tears as weakness, an affront to magic. She should be happy to have visions. Happy to be a seer. But even if it was magic, a sign of her power, the nightmares were a curse.

She looked at him, their eyes met. Sapphire to emerald.

She expected pity. She'd seen it enough in Gwen's eyes during her time as the king's ward. Seen it in Gaius's eyes after one of her bad nights..

But as per usual, she didn't know a damn thing about Merlin. His eyes flashed comfort and understanding-warm and delicious emotions -things she'd been denied for too long. Thing she'd desperately needed after such an incident.

Grabbing his neck, she pressed her mouth against his. Her only thought to get more of it. More whatever it was Merlin was also so capable of giving. She wanted to consume him, wanted him to consume her. She wanted to blot out the nightmares. The lifeless faces of her friends, of him, of her. Blot out the reality of it all. Of what she'd done, what he'd done, what they would still do.

Passion ignited and caution was thrown to the wind. She searched his lips, desperate for his taste, his touch.

And he gave it. He parted his lips with a groan, slanting his mouth against hers for that perfect fit. She yanked his hard body flush against hers, closing the short distance and bringing the delicious heat of him against her. His hands pressed against her lower back, arching her pelvis into his. She moaned, his body was notched right against hers, against the part of her that was aching.

She whimpered, desperate for more, desperate for the heat, the fire that burned earlier. That burned hotter now.

His lips moved to her neck and his hands to her stomach. He stroked her velvet-covered sides, his hands inching up. He panted, his breaths heating her already flaming skin, the edges of his day old whiskers brushing against her neck.

He was cautious, rightfully so given her earlier threat. But she wanted more. Needed more. And as if he heard her inner plea, his hands moved and cupped her breasts.

It was shocking. And delicious. As if he knew exactly what she needed. His nimble fingers caressed her through the gown, his thumb flicking over her turgid nipple. She gasped, the sensation new and intoxicating. He continued his erotic play, torturing her sensitive and hardened nipple with brushes and tweaks. She arched into him, eager for more of his touch.

But he didn't stop there. He rolled her onto her back and she instinctually widened her legs to cradle his body. The fit was perfect, his body bracketed hers and brought them together like a key to a lock. She couldn't help but notice how hard he was…there. And how good that hardness felt pressed so intimately against her. She raised her hips a little and was rewarded with Merlin's moan and a fresh blast of pleasure.

His mouth moved down, now devouring the skin around her collarbones. Kissing and nibbling, he kept moving lower, his damp breath sending shivers. Pushing down the neck of her gown, near to ripping, he exposed her left breast to the cold air of the room. Before she could think or felt the chill, he covered her pouty nipple with his mouth.

Needles of the most acute and amazing pleasure shot straight to the place where their bodies rubbed. She arched her back, her moan coming out a soft mewl. Frantic with a need to keep his mouth in place, she tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him against her breast. He responded by laving her nipple with hard flicks from his tongue. . Her other hand slid along Merlin's back, delving under the edge of his shirt, feeling the surprisingly soft skin of his back. He jerked in response, as if her touch had scalded him, but continued with even more zeal. He took her nipple between his teeth, sucking and nibbling as he thrust against her. He began to move to a rhythm that had her moaning and withering against the straw bed.

She'd never felt like this before. So out of control. So desperate. So needy. And not just any needs, but dark ones. She wanted to feel their naked bodies against each other. To feel his hardened body slide against hers, his hands touching her in the place where his hardness did now. She was still an innocent. She'd kissed a few men at Uther's court and a few since. But she was naturally curious, naturally sensual and Merlin seemed to feed every one of her desires. And she knew innately that Merlin would give her every pleasure she wanted, every pleasure she could imagine.

It was a sobering thought. Like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her. Merlin, her enemy, could give her that pleasure. In fact, he already was.

He must've felt her stiffen because he abruptly stopped and leveled himself up to look at her. Their eyes met for the space of a second but whatever he read in her gaze made him roll off her.

_Good, _she thought, _because if not I would've shoved him off. I would've. _

She straightened herself as best she could, shoving her reddened breast back into the confines of her dress. She cursed inwardly. Cursed her bloody weakness. Cursed her foolishness in starting such an ill advised encounter. She was disgusted at her behavior. Appalled at her wantonness. And more aroused than she'd ever been in her life.

"You were upset. I was here. We got caught up in the moment. I understand," he said tonelessly, absolving her, absolving them both of their rash actions.

"I-" but she didn't know what else to say. She didn't want him to explain her actions. She didn't want his bloody "understanding"…. She wanted rage and passion. She wanted anger.

He was too calm. Did he feel nothing? How could he be so calm when her heart was still beating out of control and her body was still humming with pleasure? Could he so easily forget everything? Did he not feel the desperation?

No. Apparently not. But then again Merlin never did understand that kind of desperation. The desire to know that what was happening to you wasn't frightening. That you weren't alone. That it was perfectly natural.

No, Merlin could never understand that.

She forced a calm that she didn't feel and said, "I suppose. Why else would I seek the attentions of a servant?"

Her arrow had stuck with apt certainty and he responded in kind, "Indeed, my lady. But next time your vaulted powers consume you, don't come crying to me. I might exact a price you're all too willing to pay."

She flinched, so had his. She rolled as far away as the chains would allow, cursing the stupid wretch next to her. And cursing herself for the weakness that had brought her to this point.

She might've lost this battle but she would win the war. Because they were still two people locked in a war for power. Two enemies.

And she wouldn't surrender. Not to him, and not to her treacherous body that still burned with his touch.

But that night she had no more nightmares.

**FINIS**

**Hot, right? I like the dynamic that this creates between them. Morgana's angry that things got so far and yet she's angry that Merlin can so easily get over it. There's some complicated emotions here and I definitely think something's brewing. **

**Please review!**

**Also, what's a song that reminds you of the sometimes angsty nature of Mergana?**

**My pick: "Say When" by the Fray. **


	5. Angsty Release

Chapter 5

He waited until he heard her even breathing, a signal that she was asleep.

It was barely soon enough. He nearly ripped open the buttons on his breeches, anxious to ease the hot ache. With his back to her, he knew even if she were awake, she couldn't see him.

He needed this. If he was going to last another bloody day in this dungeon with her, he'd have to find some relief.

He grabbed his throbbing shaft, stifling a moan as some of the tension eased. Her breathy moans. Her heaving breasts. The delicious taste of her skin and mouth. He stroked himself harder-all the images and sensations of mere moments ago fueling his desire. Faster. The feel of her body cradling his was…indescribable. Their fit had been perfect and her erotic nudges had nearly sent him over the edge then.

But it was her breasts that did so now. He hadn't expected them to be so…amazing. They were perfect. Every man's desire. Luscious. Full. Perky. Her pouty little nipples had begged for his kiss and he'd been desperate to do more. To bring her pleasure. To hear her gasp out his name. He felt his body tense. Every muscle tightened and he bit his lip hard to keep from crying out.

And he crashed over the edge, his body spasming as his hot seed gushed into the straw next to him. The climax was intense. And frustrating. After so many hours of her nearness, so many sniffs of her body's perfume, and so very many stolen kisses, he'd clearly needed release. But instead of satisfying him, as it should've, the climax was maddening. Almost as if he was starving, only to be fed a few scraps of instead of the feast he'd been promised. Sure, it filled his hollow belly, but it didn't end the gnawing burn of hunger. The hunger for more than his hand could provide.

He buttoned his trousers and put some semblance of order to himself. Then he looked over his shoulder.

Morgana was still sleeping soundly. While he wouldn't usually begrudge her some sleep, he felt a flare of unreasonable anger at her state. How could she sleep after something like that? Why wasn't she squirming in her bed, desperate to relieve the ache like he'd been? Did she not feel the desire between them? Was he just an amusement ? A vessel for her lonely feelings until she got out of here? Was this all a game? Another pawn in one of her diabolical plans? And the question that bothered him most of all: was he willing to be just that for a few moments of pleasure?

Nothing made him feel more like a naïve chap come to Camelot and dazzled by the beauty of the King's ward than wanking. The tenderness and longing that once clouded his vision of her had since turned to lust.

Pure lust, that was all. That was all he felt for her now.

In his youth he had longed for her. Now she haunted him. Pried her way into his every waking moment. She was a threat, during the day he constantly worried about her next diabolical move.

And at night, he tried hard to banish the images of what he'd done to her and not to think about every erotic detail of what he'd like to do to her. It was madness.

This was madness. Lying next to the woman who'd frustrated, enchanted, and thwarted him every moment since he'd stepped into Camelot. He might as well be in an asylum instead of a dungeon.

Why had he comforted her? He should've pretended to be asleep. God knows she never would've sought him out.

And yet he couldn't watch her suffer. He'd never been able to see her suffer, even if it was at his own hands. Giving her that poison had….done something to him. Like he'd ransomed off a piece of his soul, a part he couldn't ever get back.

He'd injured people before. And he'd killed people before that day-Nimeh, others who threatened Camelot. It hadn't been easy per se, but it was part of his job, part of his destiny. He mourned the loss of life, the loss of magic, but he didn't dwell on the details. It was kill or be killed, and he desperately wanted to live. Too much depended on him. Too many people (although they didn't know it).

At the time, he told himself it was necessary, that Morgana was the curse and that he needed to fix the problem, like he always did. But that hadn't kept the tears at bay. That hadn't stopped the nightmares for nearly a year afterwards. The look of betrayal on her face still sent shivers down his spine. She'd looked so hurt, so confused. Her return to Camelot had only shown him how much his actions had hardened her, how much his betrayal had taken away the goodness she'd once had.

Later when she'd been injured after the tumble down the stairs, he'd saved her…simply because he needed to. He was done listening to Kilgharrah. Done with standing idly while people suffered.

But it wasn't people. It was Morgana. He was done watching her suffer. He was done being the stealthy assassin who killed silently. He was done being a coward. No matter the consequences that night, he'd cured her. His actions that night were meant as some type of absolution. He'd thought if only he could cure her, if only he could undo the wrong he'd done, that his one action of goodness might make up for the bad. And that maybe when she woke up, she'd be different. Better. Less hard and more the Morgana that he once knew. The Morgana that he might've loved.

Clearly he'd been a fool. But he wouldn't regret it. No matter how many lives were lost later. Let Morgana make her own choices, let her blacken her own soul. He'd lost enough of his and he wasn't going to lose any more.

He should've gone to Arthur sooner. Should've told him about Morgana's actions, her secret meetings, her hidden motives. But something always stopped him. He told himself it was because he wouldn't be believed. Arthur's manservant wasn't exactly the most reliable source for Uther. Yet it was more than that. Almost as if he was giving her a chance, giving her an opportunity to turn it all around….she hadn't.

And now they were here. Stuck together. What was it Kilgharrah had said? Something about how their destines were now intertwined?

At the time Merlin thought it was figurative, but the manacle on his arm said that it might just be literal.

He rolled to his back, staring up at the darkened dungeon ceiling and feeling the weight at his wrist.

A bit too literal for his taste.

**FINIS**

**Sorry for such a short chapter. I have big and brilliant plans for the next one but need some time to develop them. Thanks to everyone for the song choices! I listened to every song that was suggested and it certainly helped me develop ideas for the upcoming chapter. I might even use a few lyrics. More songs are appreciated. Please review!**


	6. Clean Body, Dirty Thoughts Part I

**I'm splitting this particular scene up into two chapters (it's pretty long). The next chapter should be up in a few days. Thanks for the reviews!**

Chapter 6

This pillow wasn't particularly soft. Opening her eyes, she realized why. Some time during the night, she had grabbed Merlin's arm and used his forearm as a pillow, gripping his bicep with her free hand. Embarrassed at her position, she hoped that Merlin was asleep.

Looking up, she realized his eyes were open and his back was against the wall. Clearly he was awake and had been for a while.

When their eyes met, she felt a familiar jolt. Her actions last night…the lust, the passion. He'd pleasured her breasts! In the light of day, it all felt very real. She felt her cheeks heat as more memories flooded.

"You could've woken me," she grumbled, removing his arm from her grip and putting some space between them.

"You looked so peaceful," he said and then before the compliment could sink in, he followed it up with, "Besides, I thought it best to avoid more of your glares or devious smirks."

This was the Merlin she was familiar with, the Merlin she could handle. Flippant, sassy, rude, condescending. Not adorable and strangely sexy. "Hilarious, Merlin. I'm surprised Arthur hasn't made you court jester," she said with haughty sarcasm.

"Look, let's not argue. I've got a new plan. It'll require some acting on your part, which I'm sure you can handle."

She bit out, "I fooled most of Camelot, I'm sure I can manage. Now what's the plan?"

A plate was shoved through the door and he explained the plan while they broke their fast.

Minutes later they were standing in front of the door. "Ready?" she whispered, her hand poised to knock.

"Haven't you heard? I'm always ready," he whispered back, repeating her earlier words.

She scowled then knocked loudly. "Guard! Excuse me, Guard!" she said in a carrying voice.

Moments later, a plank slide open and a face appeared on the other side of a small barred window in the door. "Yes?" he said, some agitation in his voice. It was the same guard that she had punched.

"I require a bath," said Morgana, haughty and ladylike.

"You want what?" said the Guard.

"A bath. I've been in here nearly two days and I'm rather dirty. Since my sister will likely arrive any day now and will want to ensure that I've been properly taken care of, I require a bath."

The guard hesitated for a moment, so she softened in her most pleading voice, the one that worked so well on Uther, "Please? I'm filthy and grimy. Surely King Orsric won't mind too much. Please?"

Taking in her disheveled hair and the mudstreaks (that they'd put on her face for such a reason), she looked the part.

"Alright, alright, let me arrange it," he said and slid the panel back in place.

She smiled triumphantly at Merlin. "It worked. They'll have no choice but to unshackle us and when they do, we can escape."

"We?" he said.

"Or they'll take me to another chamber and then I'll just use magic to get out of this place. Either way, I'm getting out of this dungeon today."

"Yes, good to know _my plan_ will help you escape,"he said saracastically.

The panel slid open and a voice called out, "Step back. Against the back wall." They did as they were bid, knowing that in a few minutes they would be able to make their escape.

Two burly men came in bearing a rather large wooden bath, while several more men followed with large steaming buckets of water. Quickly filling the tub, they left and the initial guard made to close the door.

"Wait!" Morgana called out as he was about to shut the door, "Aren't you forgetting something?" She shook she and Merlin's manacled wrists.

"Nope. I won't be unshackling you two. Do you think I'm mad?"

"You can't expect me to bathe attached to him! I demand that you unshackle us,"she said in her haughty, no nonsense voice.

"No," the Guard said stoutly.

"How am I supposed to undress? Can't you at least send in a maid to help me?" more pleading in her voice. This was not the plan. He needed to unshackle them for there to be any chance for escape.

"Nope. You're the one who asked for a bath, Princess. Looks like you'll be getting exactly what you want," said the Guard, a smug smile on his lips.

Her temper flared, "I assure you exactly what I _want_ is to give you another punch in the bollocks."

"And they say you're not charming. Maybe if you hadn't have done so last night, you'd be bathing unshackled. As is, you're stuck with pretty boy over there. Least we'll give you some privacy, which is more than you deserve."

"Pretty boy?" Merlin said, slightly amused.

"Privacy? How am I to be private with him at my wrist?" she tried to keep the note of hysteria out of her voice. They were missing their chance at escape.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way. Now we'll be back in an hour. Best be dressed," the Guard said and slammed the door.

She cursed most foully, causing even Merlin to arch an eyebrow. "This is just bloody perfect. Nice plan by the way," she said with sarcasm.

"Hey, how was I to know what he'd do? I thought at the very worst they'd have one of the guards watch while you bathed. I'm sure that would've produced enough of a distraction to get us out of here. That was how you and Gwen had escaped before. It was a good plan," he said, poutily.

She didn't respond but looked back and forth between him and the steaming bath. She couldn't deny that at the very least, the bath was a welcome sight. It looked hot and with the cold temperature last night and meager blanket, she felt as if she'd never be warm again. Even the wafts of steam gave her the good kind of goosebumps.

As if reading her thoughts, Merlin said, "You should take advantage. This seems to be one of the few comforts we'll get in this hell."

"I can't….I have no one to help me undress…and…and . besides, you're here, there's no way I'm getting naked," she stuttered.

"The modesty is sweet, my lady, but we both know I've seen quite a bit already," he finished, giving her body the once over.

She should be offended by his lusty gaze, instead she felt…excited. His eyes seemed to see right her gown. She flushed with embarrassment, she told herself.

"And turnabout's fair play. If you leave enough heat, I'll even take a bath and wash off the stench of this place. Then you can look your fill at me," he said with a playful smirk.

That was fair. And it would be a shame to waste such a treat, even if it hadn't given them an escape route.

After a moment's hesitation, she gave into temptation and she said, "Alright. But keep your eyes on the wall. Even without my magic, I can do quite a bit of damage to certain _bits_ of you."

"Fine," he said and smirked for good measure.

Giving him her back, he took her meaning and quickly started pulling the laces that kept her gown together. She tried not to flinch, but the heat of his fingers kept brushing against her back. She felt it even through the fabric of her shift. This was a bad idea. Very bad.

**FINIS**

**I know, I'm a tease, as per usual. But really, I've got some great dialogue coming up and some intense scenes that'll flush out the emotions and fuel the sexual tension of the very steamy dungeon.**

**Please review! It's like a virtual hug.**


	7. Clean Body, Dirty Thoughts Part II

**And so it continues…this is a long chapter.**

Chapter 7

"You know, just because the men you likely come across fall to their knees and vow unwavering love, doesn't mean that the rest of us will. I know exactly who you are," he said, an edge in his voice.

He abruptly finished and turned to give her some privacy as she muttered, "You don't know anything about me. And I doubt you know anything about love."

She grabbed the hem of her gown and pulled it over her head. It was awkward with one arm manacled, but she managed to maneuver the entire thing to the side and her gown hung over the chain. "You might be surprised," he mumbled. Something in his voice said there was more to it. There was nothing flippant about that remark.

"So you've been in love?" she said, a touch of doubt and sass in her voice. She bent to remove her stockings and drawers. Clad only in her chemise, she slowly stepped into the bath. The heat was divine. It was almost too hot but on her chilled limbs, it was perfect.

With one last look at his back to ensure he wasn't peeking, she removed her chemise and sunk into the bath. An involuntary moan escaped from her lips. With Morgause, things had either been feast or famine. They were either staying in the lavish quarters of some one's castle or squandering away in damp caves. But one pleasure, no matter the location, she always indulged was a bath. Gold tub or a moonlight lake, she cared not.

Merlin had sat with his back to the bath, using it for support and enabling her wrist and gown to dangle to the side.

"Once," he said hesitantly in response to her earlier question.

"And with whom? Gwen? I hardly think that counts. It was more of an infatuation," she said, dunking her head in and saturating her scalp with the warmth of the bath.

"I was never in love with Gwen," he said straightforwardly.

She grabbed the small square of soap the Guard had left. It wasn't rose or lilac scented, but it would do. She began to lather up her hair and body.

"Well then who? Who was she?" She found herself more interested than she wanted. Had it been…her? She'd seen how he looked at her back then. Something deep and dark…and powerful. Had he been in love with her?

"You wouldn't know her."

"Was she someone from Ealdor?" There had been a number of pretty women there. She tamped down the burst of unreasonable jealousy. She? Jealousy of some milk fed country girl? Never.

"No," he said.

"Come on, do tell. She must've been special if you're so secretive. Did she break your heart? Or dare I say, you're still sweethearts? I'm not sure that Arthur allows such things, even in the egalitarian Camelot. "

After several more moments, he said "Her name was Freya. And no, we're not together anymore. She's dead."

She was shocked into silence, appropriately so. That wasn't an answer she suspected. After a few moments, she dared another question. "What happened?"

He gave a long sigh, but started, "Do you remember a couple of years ago, there was that catlike creature in Camelot? The one that killed several of the villagers?"

"Yes," she said, unsure of where this was going.

"That was her. Or rather a form of her. During the day, she was a woman but at night she became…that creature."

"She had magic?" she said, surprised and confused by his confession.

"Sort of. Her power was a curse placed upon her. It made her dangerous. She couldn't control it."

More silence. There was something in his voice that brokered no further questions, yet her mind was spinning. Merlin had been in love with someone who had magic? Someone so dangerous? Someone who had killed people? It was a darker truth than she would've guessed. But something stuck in her brain, something about Freya's death…

"Wait, Arthur was the one who killed the creature. Arthur was the one to kill her."

"Yes," he said tonelessly.

Incredulous, she asked, "And you're still his servant? Why would you do something like that? Why would you continue to be around the man who killed the woman you loved? Are you heartless or just a masochist? "

"Arthur was only doing what was necessary. What was needed to protect Camelot. Clearly, that's not something _you _could ever understand. I'm neither heartless or a masochist. Something inside me… died with Freya. But everything's black and white to you. No shades of grey. No self reflection. Arthur may have killed Freya, but he did it to save lives and even in some way, he saved her. She didn't deserve that type of half life. We had our time together and it was beautiful. She saw more of me than anyone ever has and likely ever will. I mourn her loss, but I would never question Arthur's actions. He puts Camelot first. It's why he'll make a great King,"

Angry, she said, "It's always Camelot first with you lot. And people say I'm a tyrant. How many people have suffered to make that blasted Camelot? How much magic has been destroyed in Uther's reign?"

"Arthur isn't his father. Uther's a relic. His prejudices will die with him. But not if he's murdered. Not if it's magic that destroys him. You and Morgause only harden Arthur's heart to magic. He'll never see its utility, its goodness if you use it to kill his father and take his kingdom."

"You've already sacrificed Freya and me to uphold Camelot and Arthur's kingdom. How many more have to die to make that Camelot?"

She heard him draw a deep calming breath, and then he bit out, "You can never understand the demons that I face. You just bat your eyes and lie to the world, lie to yourself. Maybe you should ask yourself the same question. How many more of your friends will die? How many more innocent people, magical and otherwise, will you sacrifice to gain Camelot?"

She seethed in silence. He didn't know a thing about it. He was the one who had no idea of the demons she faced. Morgause had said Camelot would need a strong leader, someone who could make the tough decisions when necessary, someone who would seize power. She had played that role very well. But the day her guards shot into Camelot's crowd while she watched from the balcony…it was surreal. She saw herself in that moment, remembered being witness to a similar scene, only in her place was Uther. She'd pushed that thought back…but sometimes it still haunted her. There was blood on her hands and no amount of scrubbing then or now would wash it off.

Again, as if he read her thoughts, he said, "You do realize that the people never would've followed you."

"Is that so? I didn't realize that you knew so much about kingship, or rather queenship," she said in a sickly sweet voice.

"They saw what you had become. I'm sure it broke their hearts to see you change so drastically."

"This is who I am now. They would've come around eventually," she said with malice. She didn't like the direction of this conversation.

"I doubt it."

"Oh? And why is that?" she sneered.

"Because you were once open and guileless, so loving and so damn giving. You cared about Camelot, about its people, about your friends. I remember the woman who helped my entire village defeat a band of bullies. I remember the woman who begged Arthur to go after Guinevere when she was kidnapped. I never thought that same woman would become so practiced at deception and trickery. I remember that I could often read your emotions across the expanse of the court. It's what I liked about you. You seemed so untouched by a life of nobility and privilege, so genuine where others were utterly false. You never wore a mask. Now you never take it off."

"Well, who put that mask there? I trusted you like I'd never trusted someone else and look where that got me? Poisoned without preamble or explanation. It was only because Morgause came in time that I was saved. I was alone in Camelot. You want me not to wear a mask, well, this face, this life is the only that I know. It's the only one that matters. You never saw the real me, just a manifestation of your own desire."

"You were never alone in Camelot," he whispered fervently. And she could almost hear his unspoken words: _You had me. _"It's not as if you're the only one who has magic," he mumbled.

"What did you say?" she asked, turning her head to look at the back of his head.

"Nothing. There are just others, other people who have magic who don't go parading it around in the streets of Camelot, determined to revenge themselves on Uther," he said.

"Well, then they're either cowards or fools."

This conversation was maddening. Merlin was a fool. She was alone. He was the only who saw what he wanted to see. She wasn't that woman anymore… that woman was weak. Ignorant. Trusting.

And yet, he almost made her want to be that way again. So much had changed. She'd known so little about herself then and she nearly wanted to unlearn it all now. But she couldn't undo anything. So she hardened her heart against it, hardened her heart against regret. And him, he too had changed. He'd become hardened too. He wasn't jovial. He wasn't untouched by the violence. It was a surprising thought. Something they both shared.

He was the one to break the silence, "Hurry up, I'd like to enjoy some of the heat of the water since it was my failed plan which got us the bath in the first place."

True, her hands were already pruny and she'd been able to wash everything. "Fine, but stand up so I can reach everything. And keep your eyes on the wall."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything else, my lady," he said with mock humility as he stood up.

She stood up in the water and grabbed for the towel, beginning to dry herself off. Then he did something that completely shocked her. With his back still towards her, he reached for the hem of his shirt and started to remove it.

"What…what are you doing?" she said.

"Getting the process started. I'd like to get into that bath as soon as possible," he answered from inside the shirt. Several inches of pale male back appeared and she felt promptly flustered. She'd touched that skin, just a few brief hours ago. "But….I'm not done…and you're undressing…it's…inappropriate."

"It would be if I were looking at you, but since I've still got my back to you, then I'm still following the rules. Besides, I said that you could look your fill, aren't you the least bit curious?" he finished and pulled his shirt to the side to hang on the chain.

"Absolutely not," she said with a tremor in her voice. Truth be told, she was. Very curious.

He bent over to remove his boots and she felt her mouth go dry. Since when had Merlin's behind become so…shapely. The fabric pulled, outlining every hard line of his backside and thighs.

"Well, then move it, I've been waiting long enough," he said. His comment spurred her into action, she stepped out of the tub and quickly put on her drawers and shift.

She started to put on her gown, only to realize that maneuvering it back on at this angle would be difficult. She silently contemplated his back…she needed his help.

"Umm, Merlin?" she asked.

"Hurry," he said, clearly annoyed.

"I ummm…need your help?" she didn't mean for it to come out as a question.

"Fine. But I'm turning around, unless you planned for me to do some complicated contortion."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. He turned around and she saw his eyes widen. Her chemise was made of cotton, nothing special like silk or satin, beneath his gaze it felt like the most erotic item of clothing. She blushed beneath his penetrating gaze as his eyes took in the exposed shoulders and arms, her barely covered breasts, and the soft line of her hips. Her skin prickled under the heavy weight of his gaze.

Her own eyes weren't idle as they gorged on his bare chest. Had she once thought Merlin gangly? He was lean to be sure, but he was defined, muscled even from his position as Arthur's servant. Hair swirled around his nipples and trailed down his flat stomach and below the line of his breeches. He was…magnificent. She gave a tiny shiver of excitement. _I'm just cold, it's just the cold of the room and my lack of attire. _But she was lying to herself. Indeed, her body felt hot. Damp.

Her shiver must've signaled to him that she was cold because he sprung into action, lifting the gown over her head as she thrust her arms through the sleeves. She felt him tug the gown down, until it fit over her over her hips.

His hands lingered on her hips and he made to turn her but she interrupted him with, "You'd best get in. I can wait to have the back tied."

She didn't think she could take another minute of his hands on her, another round of his fingers on her back now. Particularly with so much of his attractive body displayed. Already images were running through her mind. Her palms itched to lay against his upper chest, to run her fingers down that delicious trail, to follow it….

He looked at her for a moment, his hands still lingering on her hips. Then he moved towards the bath and said with a smirk, "Best keep your eyes on the wall or else you'll get more than a fair look now."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything else, Merlin," she said, repeating his earlier words. She sat down by the side of the tub, keeping her eyes glued to the wall by sheer will. She heard Merlin's slight splash and his contented moan as his body settled into the still hot water.

While she disliked fighting, the silence was worse. Every sound he made, every movement, every dip of the soap and scrub of his body-she heard with resounding clarity. And her mind put images to the sounds; she couldn't stop picturing his strong hands rubbing that soap over his hard chest.

Scandalously, she saw herself in the bath with him. She wanted to be astride him, lathering his chest herself, feeling his hard muscles bunch under her hands. His hands would be on her hips, like they were before, tracing lazy circles on her stomach…on her breasts….lower.

She squirmed in her seat on the floor, the fire from before flaring in her heated body. "Pass me that towel, will you?" he said and she started like a child with her hand in the biscuit jar.

She grabbed the towel and put it into his shackled hand. A moment later, she heard him rise from the bath.

And curiosity got the best of her. She had to look. Just a peek. Slowly shifting her head to the left, she chanced a peek through her lowered eyelashes. Her eyes met the pale and finely toned muscles of his upper thighs and hips. He was turned to the side, rubbing the towel over his upper body. She could just make out the curve of his buttocks.

A thrill short through her, but she wanted to see more. Honestly, it was tit for tat. And since Merlin had seen quite a bit of her tit, it was time for her to see some tat. If he would just angle his body a little to the right, she could see what all the fuss was about…she could barely make out the outline of something embedded in a nest of hair…

A sharp knock sounded on the dungeon door and the guard called out, "Five minutes! Get dressed!"

Riled by how close she'd come to ogling and fighting disappointment that she'd been unable to see more, she was stunned into staring back at the wall.

"Stand up and move forward. The last thing I need is for our charming host to call me 'pretty boy' again," Merlin said briskly.

She did as he bade in silence as her body hummed with energy. She felt rather than heard him begin to dress behind her. Frankly, she should just turn around and see more than her cursory glance in the bath had afforded.

It would've been only been fair. But something held her back.

Merlin saw too much. He'd always been able to read her in ways that no one else had. It had made her plans in Camelot more difficult, not to mention how unnerving and edgy it made her feel now. He seemed to sense her emotions, her moods, her motivations…her desires. He'd said earlier that she always wore a mask and yet, he seemed the only one who could see exactly what was behind it.

And she was afraid that one glance over his mostly naked body might show more than ever dared.

True to his word, the guard came in almost exactly five minutes later. He seemed a bit disappointed to find them both properly dressed and seated on the bench.

The guard smirked. "Enjoy your bath?" he said, his eyes moving suggestively between her wet hair and Merlin's water spotted shirt.

She merely glared at the guard.

Her body might be clean but her thoughts were anything but.

Very bad idea indeed.

**FINIS**

**Thanks for the reviews! They were very encouraging. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the sexual tension that's been developing between these two. I loved writing the dialogue here, there's so many barriers and breakdowns of communication between them that it makes for quite a lot of angst and sassiness. And while I certainly think Morgana acts pretty terribly in S3, I can't stand to have Merlin win every argument. She needs to answer for her choices, but in the same way, so does he. Don't worry, all the fighting and sexual tension is bound to burst soon.**

**Please review!**


	8. Civilized Conversation

**Just a clarification-In Chapter 4 when Morgana dreams about sightless eyes and pale faces, in the pile of dead bodies she sees are the faces of Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, and herself. For some reason, that got cut off in the published draft but it's rather chilling, and important to know.**

**Enjoy! We're back in Merlin's (salacious) mind.**

**Chapter 8**

"Do you want me to tie you up?" Merlin asked a few minutes later.

He cursed inwardly at the phrasing of that particular question. As if he wasn't already panting after her like a stud in heat, now he had erotic images of tying each other up. Indeed, he might not mind being shackled to the wall if she was the one doing the shackling…

Shaking his head, he tried to clear the lusty haze that threatened all morning. The bath had been a bad idea. Very bad.

She looked surprised at his question and then answered, "No, it's actually more comfortable this way. It looks like we'll be enjoying more of Orsric's hospitality."

She began to comb her damp hair, using her fingers to get out any snarls. It was an abashedly feminine gesture and one that he found mesmerizing. He didn't interact with many women, save for Gwen. Arthur's schedule and his living situation with Gauis made his everyday life rather testosterone filled. And even after that he didn't spend time with women, sexual or otherwise, and he'd certainly never seen one after her bath. Particularly, anyone as beautiful as Morgana.

He thought he'd felt her eyes on him while he'd bathed and his body had responded in kind, stiffening up. If only he'd know how hard it was for him to face the wall with so much loveliness a mere inch away. But he'd been a gentleman and had resisted the very strong urge to join her in the bath. She probably wasn't aware of it, but she made the same exact sounds last night. He'd had to pick a fight in order to maintain some semblance of control over his body.

He had no clue what made him tell her about Freya. He never talked about her. Ever. Gauis knew better than to pry and Arthur was totally obvious. He hadn't even said her name in years, the pain still deep.

And yet while he had been in love with her, he'd recognized during their bath time conversation that it was boy's love, not a man's. She would always hold a special place in his heart, a fragment always belonged to her…. and yet, part of the reason he'd loved her was because he could be himself. In their brief time together she had seen and accepted him. He didn't know until he met Freya how much he craved female understanding. How much he had craved someone to love.

And yet their love had been like a shooting star. So beautiful and brief, but something made all the more special because one couldn't see it all the time.

And so very unlike how he felt now. Freya's beauty had never tempted him to lust. Their kisses were sweet and wonderful instead of fire and rage. He'd never wanted to ravish Freya's mouth, to consummate their love, to make her his.

Yet even looking at the Morgana's pursed lips, loosened gown, and elegant fingers made him pant with anticipation. She clearly had no idea of how incredibly tempting she was, how even the simplest of gestures became seductive. And it made this entire situation bloody intolerable.

She shifted a glance away from her hair and said, "How's Gaius?"

"You mean since your hostile take over?" He was startled by her question, so much so that he automatically responded. For all her biting comments, it appeared she was trying for civility. But he much preferred fighting with her. At least it kept the distance between them, kept him on his guard to her maniacal ways and unpredictable temperament. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to her questions now.

"Yes," she bit out.

He sighed, he should be civil. "He's fine actually. Busy with a bout of whooping cough. Likely worried about me."

Searching for another topic, she said, "How did you come to be Gaius's assistant?"

"That's a long story," he answered.

"Well, we're certain to be here for a time so I'll need something to entertain me."

"I suppose. Gaius knows my mother from a long time ago and she sent me to Camelot. I suppose she thought my…talents would be wasted in Ealdor. I'd already proved to be unlike everyone else. Without a family profession, I didn't really have many opportunities, so to Camelot I went."

"What about your father? What did he do?"

He hesitated for a moment and gave her a half-truth, "I wouldn't know. He left Ealdor before I was born."

Her eyes met his and he felt a moment of vulnerability. There was a softness in her eyes, an understanding and sympathy that seemed to touch his very soul. He inhaled but the ache in his chest didn't stop.

"Have you never meet him?" she asked tentatively.

"Once," he said quietly. This conversation was sounding a little too familiar.

"And?" she pressed.

"He didn't know about me at all. He was forced to leave Ealdor before my mother even knew she was pregnant."

"What happened?" she asked as she began to braid her hair.

"He was something of an outlaw. He was innocent but that didn't stop Uther from pursuing him."

"Was?" she asked, a frown on her face, as if she already knew the answer.

"He died in my arms, the same year you disappeared from Camelot."

His reply was met with silence. God, conversations with her had become rather confessional. Why was he telling her this? Why was he telling her about some of the most painful and difficult moments in his life? What was it about her that made him share things no one else knew? She always tempted him to spill secrets. It was foolish and useless. He told himself she couldn't understand…and yet she did. Or if the softness in her eyes was any indication, she might.

A frown came over her face and she said, "But Ealdor's in Cenred's kingdom. Uther can't pursue people across borders."

"In this case, he did," he said, the calm phrase didn't begin to express his anger.

"So Arthur kills your sweetheart and Uther drives away your father. You must have some sense of forgiveness or a very short memory," her voice answered.

Angry with himself for sharing and with her for not understanding, he said with a sneer, "What would you have me do? Bring a reign of terror down on them both, attempt to stab the sleeping king? Oh wait, no, those are your methods. Hatred is a poison, it only festers and decays a person's goodness. I have no desire to see myself turn into you."

"Yes, well, you would know a great deal about _poison_, wouldn't you, Merlin?" she asked.

"No more than you know about fire and torture, Morgana," he said. She wasn't innocent here. He might've poisoned her but her actions after that had been of her own doing. He'd paid over and over for his mistake, she made damn sure of that.

"Bravo, Merlin, once again you've managed to turn a civil conversation into another fight," she said, finishing her braid with rough tugs.

"You're the one who asked about my father. I merely obliged you with the details. What do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Yes, it does make me angry. Yes, I've felt hatred for Uther and what he did to my father. But what good does that do? All that hate accomplishes is to tar my soul with the same blackness that mars Uther's, that will mar yours. Hate is a death sentence, its ruined Uther's life and it'll likely ruin yours."

"Are you quite done with the hypocritical moralizing or would you like a pulpit to further illuminate me on the error of my ways?" she asked in that sickly sweet voice that annoyed him immensely.

"Yes, for the moment. And I'm quite done probing my soul, let's go to yours. What was your vision about last night? What did you see?"

He could tell he hit a nerve when she paled and said stiffly, "How do you know it was a vision?"

"You might've forgotten, Morgana, but I'm rather clever. I know exactly what happens when you're without Morgause's magical bracelet or a proper sleeping draught."

She fiddled with the bottom of her hair, not meeting his eyes. "It was nothing."

"Clearly it wasn't since you oh so willingly sought the attentions of a servant," he said, repeating her words from last night.

"You didn't seem to mind," she said. He thought he heard a note of vulnerability in her voice.

"Indeed. You're very beautiful and I'm only a man," he said, voicing some of the truth. But it was much more than that. It always had been. She had always intrigued him, always made him feel restless, uneasy, edgy for so many reasons. So when she had turned to him, he had wanted to believe that it meant something beyond mere comfort and availability.

He was a damn fool.

"Such flattery," she said, the hardness back in her voice.

"I try my best. I'm sorry I'm not quite as well versed as some of your loftier suitors. Thwarting your plans and being Arthur's servant leaves me little time to learn such courtly manners, let alone practice them."

"As if it would help," she said, scoffing.

"What do you want me to say?" then unexpectedly he grabbed her hands and said in a airy voice with adoring eyes, "Lady Morgana, your eyes are the most astonishing shade of green I've ever seen. They remind me of the rarest leaves that grow in the darkest part of the forest. Your skin is of the palest alabaster and its luminosity shines brighter than the moon. And your lush curves and soft body would make any goddess weep with envy."

A slight blush stained her cheeks and he couldn't deny that it brought him some pleasure. She wasn't totally unaffected by his words and that warmed him.

The worst difficult part was that he had meant every word. Unsettled by that thought, he tried to get back his footing in this conversation. "Now you see, I've bared even more of my soul. Now tell me about your nightmare," he said.

"Fine. It was nothing new. I saw death, destruction, the same things that I usually see. Only…"

"Only what?" he said.

"It wasn't nameless people….but Arthur, Gwen…you…and me."

He paused and thought about the implications of her vision.

"Have you never seen our deaths before?"

She turned her head away, her gaze fixed on a faraway spot, "No, well, not likes this. I wear Morgause's bracelet and it keeps most of my nightmares away. Sometimes they break through, but they're more related to the next day or next week. This was disaster on a scale like I've never seen before. It was more vivid and horrible than any vision I've ever experienced."

He was silent, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, she was likely the responsible for the destruction and damage in her dream. She'd done much the same before.

And yet, she seemed rather terrified of it, frightened of the power she would create, even herself killed in the fray. Right now, in this moment, she wasn't the smirking and villainous scourge come to take Camelot away from Arthur. Instead, she seemed vulnerable. Human.

A frightened young woman who was unable to control her magic. Magic that she was also deprived of at the moment….just like him.

He wanted to hate her. Well, not hate, but he wanted to harden himself against her. She was responsible for so much damage…and yet here and now, something was shifting. They might be on opposite sides of the war, but maybe their separation wasn't permanent. It seemed like inch-by-inch they might get closer. Maybe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered quietly. And he meant it. He was sorry for so many things. For poisoning her. For lying to her. But he was also sorry for what she'd done, he was sorry to see her turn into such a monster.

She turned sharply and said with a touch of anger, "Sorry for what? Sorry that I have magic?"

He chose his words with care, "No. I'm sorry that you see so much. I'm sorry that your gift can at times be a curse."

"You probably wouldn't understand, but…it's what makes me feel special. Unique. And yet magic is the true master, and at times, he can be both cruel and fickle. Last night he was particularly mean. But magic, well, it chose me."

"You've said something of the sort before."

"Really? When?" she said, surprised.

"When we first met Mordred, in your chambers. You said something about how one doesn't choose to have magic, but that it chooses you."

"I suppose I knew then. Knew that I was different."

"I always knew you were special," he whispered, his eyes downcast, embarrassed by the statement. It was true, yet she might not welcome it.

He felt her shackled hand cover his, felt her gently squeeze it. He looked up, meeting her hypnotic eyes. She was so lovely, so open, without the mask that usually perverted her beautiful features. And her siren gaze beckoned him to come closer. How as he to resist? He felt himself lean in, as if under a spell, his mouth moving closer and closer to her delicious red lips. He saw her lips tremble as she too moved closer. Their lips were inches apart, he could smell her spicy sweet breath. Her eyes fluttered shut and his began to do the same…

And then the door abruptly opened and she jerked back, her eyes wide. He saw her mask fall back into place, her eyes shuttering against emotion and warmth.

He stifled a moan of frustration, the quick curtailment of a promising kiss affecting him more than he liked.

With his back to the door, he didn't immediately look over his shoulder at the intruder. But then voice said, "Well, well, isn't this a cozy little situation?" and he didn't need to.

Orsric had come to pay them another visit. And from the cruel grin on his face, it wasn't a social call.

**FINIS**

**Don't worry, things will get really hot soon, I promise.** **Please review!**


	9. An Alliance

**Chapter 9**

They both stood and turned to face Orsric. The king continued to grin, clearly pleased with his thoughts in this moment.

She was the first to speak. "What do you want, Orsric?" she hissed.

"Impatient as always. Nothing much, my dear. I just wanted to see how you two were faring down here in the dungeon."

She gave her him her sternest scowl and said, "How does it look like we're faring?"

The king gave them both a once over and said with a smirk, "It appears you're doing very well. From my standpoint, it looked as if the serving boy was about to steal a kiss. And you, my lady, didn't seem to mind in the slightest."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, trying not to look at Merlin. It was true. Partially. They were both trying to steal a kiss. Besides, who knew what Orsric would do if he thought they were romantic. He might separate them or worse, punish Merlin. Strange how that thought didn't seem to please her anymore.

"Hmmm, interesting. I thought to at least see some bruises on one of you, but it appears the only person bruised is my guardsmen," Orsric said with the same bored and steely voice.

He was crafty, she'd give him that. He was merely toying with them, he'd come to see his handiwork.

"Has my sister arrived yet?" Morgana said, trying to change the subject.

"No, not quite. But I did have another proposition, one I'm sure you'd be very interested in," he said.

"Oh?" she said, wary and interested despite herself.

"Yes, something of an alliance that would give you your freedom and continue your plans for Camelot."

She didn't say anything immediately. An alliance? How would Morgause react to such a plan? It was true that an alliance with Cenred had made their several attacks on Camelot easier. And yet…she didn't know what her place should be. Time here, time with Merlin had shown her some of the pitfalls of her life, of the path she was on. She was still angry, still wanted Uther gone, but the rage didn't burn so bright. Some of Merlin's points had penetrated….

And that terrified her. Morgause was all she had, the only person in this entire world she could trust. An alliance would strengthen their cause, would replenish their army, restore magic to Camelot.

"What type of alliance?" she said, still wary.

Orsric smiled. "Why, the best kind. A marriage. Between you and me. My cousin was too stupid to have more than a temporary relationship with your sister. I want permanence. An attachment that can't be undone or questioned. And with Camelot's heir at my side, the people would welcome us both with open arms, particularly after I rid the world of Arthur by using his serving boy as bait," he said, nodding to Merlin.

Orsric's finger came out and stroked Morgana's arm. She struggled not to show her disgust. He said in a soft voice, filled with what she could only assume was seductive tenor, "We could be great together. Powerful. And you're very beautiful. I'm sure we could make things work out in _every_ facet of our relationship."

"Never," she said in a soft whisper and she'd never meant any two syllables more. It was an automatic response. An alliance indeed. He had her shackled in his dungeon, what would keep him from doing so in the future? Marriage wouldn't change that. He offered freedom now, who's to say that he wouldn't deny it in the future? Sure, she might be Camelot's heir, but he could use his position as king to take her crown. Morgause would agree with her, right?

He disgusted her. His cruelty knew no bounds and if the lust in his eyes was any indication, he would bring it into the bedroom. She denied him because she couldn't be bullied into marriage. She didn't need Orsric to take over Camelot. She didn't need any man.

Yet last night, she had needed Merlin. And his stoic presence by her now made this entire encounter not quite so unpleasant.

It was ridiculous. She refused Orsric because he was a brute and because he wouldn't help her anyway. Nothing more. Not because of Merlin. Definitely not because of his words and not because of his actions. No, no indeed.

"You won't be able to kill Arthur. He's nearly invincible," Merlin said, speaking for the first time, his voice deadly and serious. He had moved closer to her, almost protective. The gesture strengthened her, although she didn't want to think about why.

Orsric's eyes shifted to Merlin and gave him a smirk, "Nearly. Besides, I wasn't speaking to you, was I, boy? Now my lady, I'll ask you again, what do you say?"

"Never," she said, this time with more edge.

"Never, eh? I hear it's going to be a particularly cold night. People are saying that snow's in the air," he said, dramatically shivering in his furs. "Maybe come morning you won't find my proposition quite so distasteful."

"I've survived worse," she said with a stubborn raise of her chin. She wasn't cowed by any man, particularly Orsric.

"Indeed?" Orsric said, slightly amused. "Well, we'll see what you say come morning." He swept through the door held open by a guard and it slammed behind him.

She sank to the bench and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. That hadn't been a pleasant encounter. Orsric's proposal was a surprise. And another worry. He didn't seem like the type to be easily denied.

But deny him she would, with her dying breath.

"You should've accepted his proposal," Merlin said as he seated himself on the bench beside her.

Surprised, she turned to him and said, "What?"

"He's right, it's going to like sleeping in an icicle tonight. If you'd accepted him, you could've been upstairs, dining on good food and warmed by a nice fire in a cozy bed."

"Yes, and likely fending off the advances of that cruel bastard," she said.

"Probably, but then you would have your new fighting force for your next Camelot takeover," he said tonelessly.

"You think I'd marry Orsric for that? For a few warriors and a warm bed upstairs?" she said, surprised and hurt by his words. Is that really what he thought of her? That she would jump into bed with the first man who could make her a queen?

He shrugged nonchalantly, watching his feet shuffle on the floor. And she saw red.

So this was how it was going to be? She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to meet her gaze, much as she'd done before in the alcove at Camelot. Through clenched teeth she managed, "You think a couple of stolen kisses and a few heart-to-hearts mean that you know me? Know what I would do? Or _who_ I would do? Let me tell you this, Merlin, you don't know a damn thing about me or a damn thing about what I would or _wouldn't_ do to gain Camelot. So keep your bloody opinions and insights to yourself. They're worse than the poison."

Thrusting his arm away, she turned with a huff, giving him her back. So this was how it was going to be? One moment of tenderness, the next of hatred and accusation? She couldn't allow herself to soften any more. No more probing questions into his past, no more debates about Camelot and her blasted destiny. Merlin thought he knew her? Well, he wouldn't get a chance to know any more of her.

Silence, that's what was prescribed. If she didn't talk, he couldn't make any more wild leaps or offensive accusations. She should've done this in the first place. Why she'd ever thought to work with, let alone make conversation with the supercilious dollophead was beyond her. Maybe the bump on the head had affected her more than she thought.

Talking to him was a mistake. But it always was, always had been.

She couldn't wait to get out of this dungeon. Couldn't wait for Morgause to sweep in and save the day, because right now she might've accepted Orsric's proposal just to escape Merlin and his knowing looks.

A tear coursed down her cheek and she roughly brushed it away. Merlin didn't know a damn thing about her. But then, he never did.

**FINIS**

**Kind of angsty, right? I really enjoy these two fighting their feelings and then countering close moments with anger. The next chapter will be salacious, I promise. No seriously, really. Thanks to everyone for the reviews! They're so wonderful to read.**


	10. Sounds of Silence, Dreams of Grandeur

**More to come very soon (2/3 of chapter 11 are written). Merlin's particularly…helpful in the next chapter. **

**Chapter 10**

Of all the punishments she could give him, silence was by far the worst. He liked sound, the activity, the bustle of everyday life in Camelot, in Ealdor. But here the lack of sound, the absence of her voice made the room feel bigger, chillier.

They'd been like this for hours, the afternoon dying away. Every time he'd think of something to say, opening his mouth to form the words, her stiffened back and rigid posture prevented him. Words died on his tongue, thoughts left unsaid.

He hadn't meant it to come off so…harsh. So accusing. While he'd been surprised by Orsric's proposal, he'd been stunned by her answer. Sure, Orsric was a brutal bastard who'd lap up every inch of her delectable and virginal flesh, but she was ambitious, almost to a fault. The promise of a return to Camelot, a second chance at the crown…well, he thought it might prove irresistible. Better than another night spent in this hell hole with him.

But the look in her eyes had shown him how wrong he was about her. And how quickly his wrong impression had turned her back into a villain. Turned himself into a villain. It was stupid. Mean, for him to assume that about her. She was right, he didn't know her. Or didn't know enough of her anymore….but at times he saw glimpses of the same woman he'd known long ago, a woman he'd trusted and cared for, deeply.

That was the same woman who'd refused Orsric. And the same haughty and proud woman who currently gave him the silent treatment.

He knew he should apologize. He'd been rude, assuming, insulting. But despite his role as Arthur's bumbling servant, he was proud. Prouder than most people would think. He chafed when he apologized to anyone. But with Morgana he was afraid he wouldn't be able to _stop _apologizing, that the maelstrom of words would reveal every infraction he'd committed. Every lie about her magic, every lie about his. Every action he'd taken in the last year to ensure she would fail against Camelot. The poison.

He told himself it's not as if she was innocent. She too had wronged him. Left him to die in the forest, left him to a fiery death in her chambers. She also had much to apologize for.

But that didn't make him feel any better now.

They ate in silence as the room got colder. He could see both their breaths and the slight trembling of her hands, but not a word slipped from her lips. No complaints and no sass. It was maddening. Her eyes avoided his and when they did meet, hers were flat. Dull. Like fiery emeralds covered with a film of dust.

He was almost thankful for the darkness that finally came to their dungeon. He could see her outline but her eyes were hidden. It was a relief not to see the hurt in her eyes or the lack of emotions, the results of what he'd done to her.

He broke the silence, trying for a nonchalant attitude, menial conversation, "I'm tried, are you?"

She merely nodded in response and moved towards the bed. Frankly, bed sounded like a good idea. Her sound embargo and the dropping temperature made bed the best option for heat and sanity.

He saw her settle into their makeshift bed, carefully maintaining the same amount of distance between them as last night. He felt a sharp ache in his chest. It was like last night never happened, like today didn't either. All the feelings he blurted out, all the pleasure they'd had….and nothing.

It was the final straw. He was an idiot. A stupid and proud idiot who'd denied her an apology too long.

Looking at her back, he whispered softly, "I'm sorry."

He saw her back stiffen just the smallest fraction as she said her first words in hours. "It doesn't matter," she said, her voice harder than he'd ever heard it. That time had embittered her, he could see that now. It wasn't just this apology, it was all the other things he'd left unsaid.

"It matters to me. You're right, I don't know you or at least, I don't know you anymore. It was wrong of me to assume something so…low. I'm just used to being your enemy and I'm used to you being mine. Things like that don't change overnight. Instincts like that don't change so quickly. Surely you agree with that?"

Silence and then, "Maybe. But no matter what I've done, no matter who I've injured or killed , there's one thing I'm not; I'm not a whore. There are some things even I'm not willing to sell. Some things that are too precious to me, particularly too precious to be sold to a bastard like Orsric."

"I know," he said, thinking about last night. There was something pure in her sensuality, something genuine. She might sell her soul, but her body, that she wouldn't.

There was more silence but this time it was contemplative. And cold. Seeing her shiver, he remembered his original purpose in getting into bed.

"Look, I know that you have an aversion to cuddling, or at least a waking aversion to it, but I think if we're going to survive tonight, we might need to share our heat."

"I suppose," she said in that mysterious voice of hers, but she scooted over until their bodies were touching. Her face was still turned away from him, but she had hunkered closer.

Pulling the blanket more firmly up, he snuggled it around their bodies. The clean scent of her hair teased his chilled nose. It was still freezing but the heat of their bodies and the blanket made it bearable. "Goodnight, Morgana," he said, whispering the words to nearby her ear.

"Goodnight, Merlin," she said softly.

He shivered for a few minutes longer, getting comfortable in their chilly bed. Then the anxiety of the day caught up with him and he soon slipped into darkness.

* * *

><p><em>The boy was raven haired with large protruding ears. But he had her eyes, green and darkly lashed.<em>

_Smiling a crooked and front-toothless smile, he bounded towards her and said, "Mama, I got to pet three goats today!"_

_She picked up the mischievous cherub, nestling him against her, and said, "You did, my darling boy? Is that what your Papa took you to do?"_

_"Yes, he said I could pet as many as I wanted as long as I didn't set any on fire."_

_"Oh really? So only three?" she said, her voice torn between amusement and suspicion._

_"I set the fourth one on fire, like this," he said proudly as he muttered phrase and his eyes glowed gold. He brought up a chubby and dirty hand, holding a small flicker of a flame close to their faces. "See? See?" he said, enthusiastic and clearly pleased with himself._

_"Yes, I see, love. But that was very naughty of you. I'm sure your papa was very disappointed."_

_The boy frowned and sighed dramatically. "We had to have a talk. I don't like Papa's talks" he said, poutily._

_"And your papa doesn't like giving them," came a familiar voice from the door._

_The scene changed. A fire blazed in the hearth of a richly furnished bedroom._

_She was seated on the feathery softness of the four poster bed, her body encased in a luxurious nightgown. She felt warm, anxious, eager for something that she didn't know._

_The large wooden door opened and in came…Merlin._

_He was older; a few flecks of gray in his hair, a few lines around his eyes. But his eyes were the same-blue as sapphires, warm, kind._

_"Arthur keeping you late?" she said, annoyed, scooting to sit on the edge of the bed._

_"As always. You'd think I was still his serving boy. But no, he needed my advice on the renegade band of sorcerers that have been raiding the outlying villages."_

_"And that couldn't have waited until morning? He's such a prat. Likely wanted to keep you from enjoying the dark pleasure of your wife's body," she said, a seductive lilt to her voice._

_He moved closer, a cheeky grin on his face, "Likely. But let's not talk about your brother. Nothing kills my libido faster."_

_"Mine as well," she giggled as she pulled him down to the bed and covered his mouth with hers._

_Heat exploded through her senses. His hands were caressing her neck, skimming down her shoulders. She felt a desperation in his movements, the urgency to his pace; the same desperation she felt, the need to be united._

_"Mmm, love, I need you too much tonight," he whispered vehemently against her lips, his hands cupping her breasts, giving little doubt of his intentions._

_"Then take me," she whispered back, arching into him._

_She wasn't shy, she was bold- grabbing the hem of her nightgown and tugging it over her head. His eyes shone brightly as he took in every inch of her exposed body. Then he fell on her like a man possessed, his mouth sweeping over her nipples, her throat, her navel. She moaned, her body arching, her hands divesting him of his clothes. Soon he was as naked as she, their skin sliding against one another…she felt his hardness against her center…Their eyes met and he smiled roguishly as he began to push in, her body welcoming the fullness. She was so close to something…so close to being united with the man she loved…_

**FINIS**

**I do think that Merlin is pretty proud. People often underestimate him (despite his many visible talents) and I think that can harden you, make it a little more difficult to be vulernable and say that phrase "I'm sorry". Here he clearly knows he's wrong , but he has difficulty admitting it. He's been vulnerable with Morgana before...but an apology for his actions is different. He hasn't quite figured out how to interact with her in this place. Is she an enemy? Is she a friend? And in some ways after the end of Series 3, is she even human anymore? Can she be saved? Does she still get hurt by such things? They both haven't figured out how to interact with each other. But then, that's the fun of it and dare I say, how they're slowly coming together. **

**Please review!**


	11. Say My Name

**It's late here (nearly 3:30am) but I wanted to get this done. Enjoy! It gets steamy. Huzzah! **

**Chapter 11**

She woke up with a whimper, disoriented and aroused. She sat up, taking in her surroundings. She was not in a room that was warm, but one that was ice cold. This wasn't a castle suite but a dungeon.

Her body felt tight, hot. Damp and aching.

It was the most realistic dream she'd ever had. Often the things she saw in her dreams were from afar; she was merely a narrator of the visions which came to her. This time she was more involved, she was distant but still felt the sensations, still felt the emotions. That was the difference, she couldn't just see the scenes, she could feel them.

"What is it, Morgana?" asked Merlin, clearly woken by her whimper.

"Nothing, nothing. Just another dream," she said, flushed with heat and embarrassment. The details were still fuzzy…the boy, he was her son. The bedroom…the man with blue eyes…Oh my God, Merlin. She'd been making love to Merlin! Were they married? Why that was ludicrous…it seemed so strange and yet so very real.

"Was it like the others? What did you see?" he asked, still concerned.

"Nothing, look, I'm fine. You can go back to sleep," she said, a bit more terse. She couldn't discuss it with him.

"You're not fine. You're flushed and your back is sweaty, clearly something's upset you. Did you see more deaths? Who was it this time? Did you see yourself?"

"Look, it wasn't that type of a dream, ok? It was a different type. Just different. Not frightening," she said, her voice sharp to hide her obvious embarrassment.

He stared at her for a moment, seeming to take in all of the details, and then said, "Oh."

"Oh what?" she asked, confused.

He fidgeted uncomfortably but finally said, "The lads…um..we call it a wet dream, a dream that arouses you and such. It's perfectly natural, although I didn't know something er similar happened to women."

She blushed at his too apt conclusion and said, "Oh…I suppose that makes sense. I should be fine in a few minutes."

Right, because in a few minutes she'd dead from embarrassment or unsatisfied lust.

"Did you er…want me to help with that?" he blurted out. He seemed shocked by his own words, but he didn't retract his question.

"What do you mean help with it?" she said carefully, skeptical of his motives and uncertain if they were even talking about the same thing.

"Just help…um…relieve you," he said, the last two words coming out slowly. Yes, they were definitely talking about the same thing. Her body answered with another rush of heat to the exact spot she ached. Clearly it knew the answer.

"Oh…I ummm…I mean…it…it might be nice," she said, surprised by her words. But she was desperate, the conversation had made things all the worse…and steamy.

"I've…um…had similar dreams myself and it…always helps."

"Well, if it might help. You know how? Like on a woman?" she said, trying not to sound so damn excited. Hadn't they just had a conversation But her heartbeat was already picking up pace at the thought of his hands on her body.

He smiled a roguish smile, very similar to the one from her dream and said with brazen charm, "Yeah, I've read about it a time or two. Here, lie back against me like we were before."

She did as she was bid, their bodies spooning together, the blanket encasing them, his arm cradling her head. "I won't ruin you," he whispered near her ear, his hot breath on her cold ear fanning the flames of her very aroused body.

"I know," she said hoarsely and she meant it. She barely recognized the emotion…trust, it appeared she could trust him here.

But all thought vanished as his large hands cupped her breasts. She moaned, her senses reigniting and her head rolling against his shoulder.

"Yes," she whispered, some semblance of relief already coming. He slid his hand down the curve of her chest and pushed down the collar of her loosened gown. His fingers found her puckered nipple and gently fondled one, then the other. She gasped at the heated sensations that shot through her body.

She could feel his hardness against her and it aroused her more. To think that her pleasure was pleasing him. Hardly conscious of the action, she rubbed her bottom against him. She was rewarded with a loud groan.

His mouth feasted on her neck, the scrape of his several days growth sending shivers through her sensitive skin. Then he moved his lips up and toyed with the rim of her earlobe, causing her to arch and squirm further.

She felt his hand slide down her stomach, rubbing soothing circles that merely made her ache more. Her body quivered in anticipation, uncertain what to expect, but desperate for more of the unknown.

His hand began to bunch up the fabric, sliding the heavy folds of her velvet gown upwards. Her breath was coming in little gasps as heat concentrated in the very spot his fingers were inching towards. His hand swept down the top of her bared thigh as he gently pushed the material of her shift higher.

His fingers stroked higher and higher, inching ever closer to the spot that craved his touch the most.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his fingers hovering near the spot where her thigh met her hip.

"God, yes," she managed to get out. So this is how he planned to kill her? With anticipation and pleasure? What a brilliant plan, he should've thought of it sooner.

His fingers swept over her damp curls and she nearly came out of her skin. Then he cupped her fully in his hand, his naked palm against her tingling flesh. It was so intimate and hot. His middle finger pressed down against a particularly sensitive spot and she moaned loudly.

He circled his finger against that spot, teasing her with soft brushes and then harder ones. He thrust a finger into her welcoming body, as the heel of his hand circled against her. Little gasps of pleasure kept spilling from her lips. She was lost in sensation, every touch drawing her closer to the edge of something. Her muscles contracted, her body undulated against his hand, craving the delicious friction only he could give.

Suddenly, he slowed his movements; actions that would've aroused her before now merely teased her with their gentleness. She whimpered in protest and tried to move closer to his hand, but he continued his too soft ministrations.

"Please," she whispered throatily. She had been so close to something, so close to some type of relief….it was maddening. It was there…just out of reach.

His lips skimmed on her ear as he whispered, "In the dark you can pretend all you want, pretend that I'm not your enemy. But if you want me to give you what you need, you'll say my name. You'll say it's me giving this pleasure."

As if anyone else could make her feel this way, she was more than happy to oblige. "Merlin, please, please, I need-" she keeled.

He thrust another finger in and circled his hand hard against her. She moaned, gasping out as she teetered on the edge…and then promptly fell off. Her body spasmed, hot bursts of the most intense pleasure she'd ever experienced possessing her body.

She gasped out his name, over and over as the white heat spread through every nerve ending.

It was the most awakening moment of her life. She'd never felt like this. So free, so powerful and yet so powerless. It was overwhelming. How could she have thought of someone else in this moment? Every action, every movement was burned into her brain. She would never be able to separate him from the pleasure she'd just experienced. It was impossible.

But all too quickly, before her breath even settled, he withdrew his hands from her body and turned his back to her.

She gaped at his back. Had it all meant nothing to him? When it had very quickly become much more to her?

"Merlin?" she asked tentatively.

"Just give me a minute," he said, his voice hoarse. And then she realized exactly what the problem was. He felt like she had when she'd awoken….unsated.

Running her hands over his back, she moved closer and said, "I think it only generous that I help with…er…that."

He visibly shuddered and said, "You don't have to. I mean, I don't expect that. I can take care of it myself."

"I want to," she breathed against his ear and she meant it. Spooning his back, as he'd done with her, she reached around to touch him through his breeches. She knew little about what pleased men, but she knew that his hardness needed attention and she was eager to give it. She could be scandalized at her actions later.

He hissed. Then he made quick work of the buttons on his breeches, grabbing her hand and circling it around his hard shaft.

"Oh God," he said through clenched teeth. He kept his hand over hers, showing her how to properly stroke him. He was hard and soft at the same time, the shaft felt like steel covered in velvet. She heard him groan, the sound giving her a keen sense of pleasure. She was giving him this pleasure.

"Harder…that's it, oh God. Faster," he ordered and she was happy to obey. His hips bracketed her hand, creating extra friction between her hand and his hardness.

She felt his back tense against her, knowing that he was on the same edge she'd been on before. And as the teasing wretch had done, she stilled her motions.

He groaned in protest. "Say it," she demanded, feeling suddenly as possessive of him.

Her lips nibbled his sweetly large earlobe. "Morgana," he said, the words said with the reverence and desperation of a prayer. "Morgana, please," he begged.

Knowing how the extra pressure had helped her at the end, she groped harder and faster, tearing deep groans from his lips.

"Morgana…oh God, oh, yes. Yes….yes….Morgana!" he said her name with a hoarse croak as he brought his hand down to still her ever pleasing hand. His flesh pulsed under her hand and she couldn't help but smile against his shoulder. She had done that. She had pleasured him. Brought him to the same heights of pleasure as she'd reached.

He turned to face her, their eyes meeting for the first time since this had all begun. There was a softness in his eyes…a tenderness that's she'd not seen since their early days together in Camelot.

It scared the hell out of her. And after such an experience, she had no idea what to say. What did it mean? She felt confused (and more sexually satisfied) than she'd ever been in her life. The dream and its ramifications coming back to her as she looked into Merlin's eyes. Maybe it was just a dream, maybe it was the future…a brighter future than she'd even dream of last night.

She felt exposed. Vulnerable. They'd just shared something deep and profound. It might've started out as a gesture of comfort (maybe), but somewhere along the way, it had turned into something much much more. She'd given Merlin some of her trust, something she'd long ago decided he didn't deserve.

They stared at each other for a few more moments. And then, as if he couldn't help himself, his lips brushed against hers. It wasn't as sensual as their other kisses, but it made her heart clench nonetheless. They hadn't kissed the entire time they were engaging in…activities. Their bodies had closely explored each other and yet, this simple kiss spoke more promises of intimacy than any of the actions of before.

And it confused her further. She sighed deeply, realizing that she wouldn't figure anything out tonight.

She settled once again into his inviting arms, tired and exhausted from her tormented thoughts and confusing dreams.

The last thought she had before her drooping eyelids closed-had everything suddenly changed?

**FINIS**

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! I'm glad so many of you enjoyed Chapter 10's angst and tortured feelings. I've come to enjoy writing Evil!Morgana more than I thought. As many of you pointed out, there's always some motivation behind her actions (not always great motives). The exercise of putting her and Merlin together to duke out their angsty feelings and ever present dislike is rather rewarding. We're definitely not done with those issues, but I hope you enjoyed this smutty chapter. Merlin's ever so helpful in situations like this.**

**Please review!**


	12. All We Know is Distance

**Chapter 12**

_All we know is distance_

_We're close and then we run_

_Kiss away the difference_

_I know you hate this one_

"Where the Story Ends" by the Fray

They were seated next to each other on the bench. Wrapped in the blanket, they were close but not touching. His eyes shifted towards hers and she quickly glanced away. It was the fourth time he'd caught her staring at him. She kept gazing at him, wary and confused.

They'd awoken that morning, nearly frozen but alive. He'd almost immediately helped her tie back up her gown under the pretense of warmth. In truth, he was afraid that further glimpses from the curve of her breast might prove his undoing.

The guard came in less than an hour later, clearly meant to check and see if they were still alive. He had smiled, a little too pleased at their residual shivering. "Good night?"

"Delightful," Morgana had said, with a deadly smirk. "You can tell your king that it'll take more than a little snow to get rid of us."

The guard had kept smiling and slammed the door. Food was shoved through the whole a few minutes later.

They'd made little conversation since breakfast. She still seemed rather tired. And truth be told, he was pretty exhausted. Cold nights always made him lethargic and coupled with the anxiety, the escape plans, the fights…and the nighttime activities, things were taxing to say the least.

She hadn't mentioned last night and he didn't either. In the cold light of day, he still wasn't sure what to make of it.

He didn't understand her. Nor did he understand what was happening here or what was happening between them. One moment they were tearing each other apart with horrible words and meaner phrases, the next they were touching each other with tender kisses and hot passion. It was unsettling. He didn't know where they stood. During the day they were fighting and planning, at night they were damn near close to love making.

She was so unpredictable. Open and loving one moment, mean and cruel the next. He felt like he was jumping out of his skin. She couldn't be trusted. And apparently, he couldn't trust himself around her either. She kept stealing into his life, breaking down barriers that he'd carefully constructed so that he could continue on the slow path to his destiny. But she questioned and criticized, comforted and calmed. He knew his path, he knew how crucial a role he played in Arthur and Camelot's future. But more importantly, he knew how hell-bent on revenge she was. That should've been enough to keep him bottled up and in check .

But no, he had to be the hero too, didn't he? He just had to try and save her this final time, even if it meant an end to his sanity. He called himself a fool for the hundredth time.

"I…ummm…suppose… I should thank you for last night," she said awkwardly glancing away.

Feeling equally at sea, he said, "Then I guess you're welcome."

More silence. _Don't ask, _he thought, _don't ask, don't ask. _But of course he couldn't resist asking the question that had plagued him all morning. "What was the dream about? Like what would…er…make you want to, I mean, that is…oh never mind. It's none of my business," he finished stiffly. What did it matter? Why did he care what it was about? Or rather whom it was about? He cursed inwardly.

"No, it's fine," she said, although she continued to glance away, the curve of her cheek pinkening. "I suppose you've earned some of the details. I was making love to someone…well, my future self was making love to someone. I'm not quite sure if it was a dream or a vision."

"I see," he said, scowling. He could just imagine how that dream went. Some handsome knight or powerful sorcerer with a rock hard body and a glowing tan. Two elegant people entwined in a sexual abyss of limbs and flesh….only for her to wake up to a pasty and gawky servant with a penchant for insults. A sufficient stand-in at the time but hardly a substitute. "Anyone I know?" he said, trying for a joking manner.

"Maybe," she said in that mysterious voice that was quickly coming to unsettle him.

Before he could say anything else, she suddenly changed the subject, "Do you like children?"

Puzzled, he asked warily, "Why do you ask?"

"Just making conversation," she said in a haughty voice, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't have much experience with them, being an only child and all. I mean, I had Will, who was sort of a brother to me. But no younger siblings. But yeah, I like children. I'm the one who brought Mordred to you, remember?"

There he went again, sharing more details, bearing more pieces of his soul, reminding her of their shared history. How did she manage that? Manage to get past his defenses? Why was he so very eager to answer her questions? So eager to please her even the tinest bit? That only led to a mess of trouble.

"I was an only child too…well, or I thought I was," she said quietly.

He felt a tug in the area of his heart, yet another thing they shared. He thought back to what he had told Kilgarrah after Morgana had returned, "I thought because she had magic, I thought we were the same." He couldn't afford a connection with her. He couldn't afford to sympathize with her, to see so many of the similarities between them. They were on opposite sides of the divide. His feelings now…this lust, this softening was merely a manifestation of nostalgia. He longed for a woman who was essentially dead. A woman who had died with the poison from a water pouch he'd given. He shouldn't be softening. He couldn't be. His entire future depended on his loyalty to Arthur.

Trying to get back on better footing, he said tartly, "Considering I spend most of my days protecting your one sibling from the other, I'm well aware."

She took the bait. "Protecting, really? You'd think you were a guard or a knight with that attitude," she said with a sniff.

"I do more than a knight," he said definitively.

"Oh really? Do tell, it must be so dangerous straightening beds and drawing baths. Or is it polishing all those pointy swords, that surely requires several _years_ of training," she finished with that terribly annoying smirk, the one with the sideways head tilt.

He felt a flash of anger, "I've saved Arthur's life more than he'll ever know. Saved yours too as a matter of fact."

They were inching too close to his secrets, but he wouldn't stop. Just once. Just once he wanted someone to see him as more than a manservant. Someone to acknowledge the important role he played in Camelot. Not just anyone. Morgana, he wanted her to see him as more than some Arthur's servant.

But he was bound to be disappointed. "Huh, when?" she laughed without mirth.

"If you don't count the last forty eight hours, several times," he said steadily.

She chuckled at his vague response, "Come now, don't be modest. Let's hear your heroics."

He gritted his teeth. When had he become so arrogant? So desperate to reveal himself, even his darkest secret? Like an executioner, she seemed to draw every last confession from his lips before bringing down the axe. But he would resist this one secret, as he always did. No matter how much she probed and teased. "I'd prefer not to."

Smug, she said, "Yes, you're much more adept at taking lives than saving them."

Angry, he said with a lofty voice, "If you're talking about the poison, I'm the one who told her what I'd given you. She wouldn't have been able to cure you otherwise."

"It hardly counts if you're the one who put me there. Morgause would've figured it out on her own. Next example, "she said haughtily, her face close to his.

Her eyes blazed up at him, but he much preferred her like this. Then he couldn't forget her blaming and devious ways. "I'm not one to go about brandying my handiwork. I leave that up to avenging sorceresses like yourself. Maybe if you think on it, you'll figure it out. It's not as if you can say the same thing, is it? You've never saved my life,"

"You are such a condescending and arrogant ass," she said with a sneer.

He folded his arms over his chest and said nonchalantly, "I'll remind you, this condescending and arrogant ass saved your life. Unthanked actually."

She tossed her head and said with sarcastic humility, "Oh yes, Merlin, thank you so much for your lifesaving aid in said ambiguous event. I'll be forever in your debt. But that doesn't give you the right to kill me."

"I've never wanted to kill you. I still don't," he said quietly, looking away.

"Really? Because you've put on quite the performance of doing it up proper."

"If I wanted to kill you, I could've done it long ago," he said. It was true. He could've killed her several times before. Kilgarrah had warned him long before Morgana's turn to the dark side. But he hadn't lied, no matter what she'd done, he didn't want to kill her.

"What were you going to do, annoy me to death?"

"I never thought on it. Despite what you continue to believe, I never wanted to hurt you," he said.

"Huh! Hurt me? Please, I'm not so weak as to be hurt by the likes of you. Even your poisoning was half thought out at best."

More angry than he'd been this entire conversation, he spat back, "So I'm a beast one moment and a weakling the next?"

"More like an inept simpleton," she said with another toss of her hair.

That was the last straw. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her towards him, "Oh really? And I believe it was this inept simpleton whose name you were calling out last night."

She thrust her face closer and said, "And it was this avenging sorceress's that you were also calling out, _Merlin_."

"Like I said before, _Morgana_, you're beautiful and I'm only a man," he lied.

Tearing her arm out of his grip, she spat, "Yes, and I'm a wanton, right? All too eager to be Orsric's little whore?"

"I never said that!"

She was silent for a moment and then said, "Well, as I said before, thank you. For the _practice_. I'm sure it'll come in handy in the future." Her voice was so arrogant, so assured.

He narrowed his eyes, "Oh practice, was it? I doubt you'll be able to forget. Marry the whomever you want, align yourself with whomever you please. But you'll remember how I made you burn, you'll remember how I gave your first taste of pleasure. Not matter what happens in the future, you won't forget last night."

With an arched eyebrow and a smirk she said, "I guarantee once I get out of this place, I'll forget it all. Every last detail. Now let's see if we can find any weapons in this hell hole because I'm more than ready to forget."

**FINIS**

**As the little lead in and my previous note about "Say When"indicates, I listen to far too much of The Fray while writing. I had been listening to the more cultured Oasis, but that put me into this sad and really depressed funk, not quite the mood for this particular fic (Oasis also derailed my dissertation work, as "The Importance of Being Idle" became an anthem for my procrastination). Yet The Fray's lines kept sticking in my head when writing this chapter. And while I love writing the sexy scenes, but there's just something equally as satisfying about the dialogue between these two. Sorry to say, that it might be a while before the next update. The next chapter's right before the turning point of the story, so I have to figure out what to do with these two before that moment. **

**Please review! I'm so grateful and happy every time I see a new one pop up. **


	13. Gratitude

**Thanks to everyone for the great reviews! Enjoy this chapter!**

**Chapter 13**

Picking up her skirts, she rose from the bench and began to search for weapons. _Yes, a weapon would wipe that arrogant grin off his adorab—hateful face. _

Truly annoyed, she glided as regal as a queen around the room, not caring one whit if he followed or not. Arrogant man! Why the nerve of him touting the number of times he'd saved her life, specifically after he'd oh so cleverly tried to kill her! How did Merlin do that? Manage to turn a normal conversation into something so infuriating?

But no, then he had to add insult to injury with his pronouncement about last night. What rot! She would forget. She had to forget. She was halfway to forgetting right now.

Ok, so maybe she wasn't that close, but close enough. She only thought on it every hour…or fifteen times an hour.

A few moments of pleasure didn't mean anything. The situation they were in…was complicated. She had needed something and in the wee small hours of the morning stupidly she'd reached for Merlin. Very stupidly.

And yet it was almost as if the darkness gave her some unspoken license for her behavior. No one would know. She doubted Merlin would ever tell Arthur about this. And she'd certainly never tell Morgause. Even Orsric's little prod about the "serving boy stealing a kiss" wouldn't come to anything. But if she was honest with herself, the forbidden nature of it all, doing something so out of character, so transgressive as to engage in such acts with her enemy…was arousing. Merlin, her enemy, would give her pleasure and then return to annoying her in the morning. It was what she wanted, right?

But his jabs hurt. His hateful words spewed with genuine malice, his wrong assumptions impinged upon her more than she thought possible. The things she'd done with Merlin…they'd made her vulnerable, those acts of forbidden pleasure were more dangerous to her than any poison. Because for a few moments she could pretend to be someone else, to be something else, to live someone else's life. They were just two people together in darkness, giving each other pleasure without the entanglements of outside world to intrude. But in the bright light of day, she was still Morgana, enemy to Camelot and rightful heir to its kingdom. She was still a sorceress who couldn't legally practice magic. And he was still Merlin, ever thwarting and sharp tongued servant to Prince Arthur.

She couldn't afford to lose her head, to lose her drive because of some man's smoldering touch. No, no indeed. Pleasure was fleeting. Power was absolute. Power was the ultimate fulfillment.

Yet a small part of her couldn't help but wonder what would it mean to give up Camelot. To give up her chance at the throne. Was that even possible?

Fragments from last night's dream suddenly came to mind. The child, with his protruding ears and toothless grin…he was her son….their son…she and Merlin's child. How was that even possible? They were enemies on different sides. Sure, there was a fair amount of lust…she wasn't totally ignorant…but she'd never…they'd never…they would never…it couldn't be a vision. A dream. It was a dream. What possessed her to ask Merlin about children anyways?

It was just a manifestation of her surroundings, she silently told herself. She and Merlin together…new ideas forming, plans had become like a child. A natural occurrence, really. Every dream wasn't a prophecy. Why look at the sporadic nature of her dreams. Terrifying and horrible, comforting and arousing.

Truth be told, aside from her brief time spent with Mordred, she never really thought of herself in the role of mother. But at odd moments, a feeling of dissatisfaction would steal over her. Something unnamed and yet so painfully acute that she couldn't breathe. Was this to be her life? Ever in pursuit of Camelot? Ever wondering if she would turn out like Uther? Would love and family ever have a role in her life? Were she Queen would she ever be able to let a man into her trust?

She'd been drawn to Morgause because of their family connection. After so many years of isolation, the promise of family was addictive. Too bad she'd been surrounded by family the entire time. Too bad that Uther had done _everything_ in his power to make her feel alone, to make her feel abandoned.

She still believed one thing: Magic should be returned to the realm. But here in this isolated environment, Merlin's questions penetrated: how much was she willing to sacrifice to gain Camelot?

Every word from his lips, every moment in his company seemed to increase the price by tenfold.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her muddled thoughts. Merlin was persuasive, she'd give him that. He had an uncanny ability to see into some of the darkest parts of her soul and appeal to her vulnerabilities. He played to every weakness she had. Why, he even had her questioning herself. _But then_, she reminded herself_, that was his strong suit_. Force and argument hadn't worked, so seduction and tenderness were his new tools to thwart her future at Camelot. And like the frightened and thirsty king's ward she'd once been, she'd dared a sip. No more.

It was all the more reason for her to get the hell out of here.

"See anything?" she said in an especially haughty voice.

"No. But then we're unlikely to find anything with you dragging me around like some petulant puppy," he grumbled. She felt the tug of a smile at the annoyance in his voice.

"Fine, then let's do it your way. Where do you think we'll find a weapon in this dungeon?" she said, waving her arm around to indicate the room.

"How about the straw? I doubt they freshen it up very often, might be one of the previous tenants left something behind."

"Fine," she with a sniff and they began to search the straw that served as their bed.

She started to kick at the straw, but after a couple of kicks revealed nothing, she bent down and started to push things aside. Merlin did the same.

"Once," she said in an annoyed rush, the word the answer to an unspoken question.

"Once what?" he said with some confusion.

"I saved your life once." She wished the words back as soon as they were out of her lips. What was the point in telling him?

"When?" came his surprised voice.

"Well, aside from the fact that I never told Uther about the poisoning which very clearly would've led to your execution?"

"Yes, well, I kept your secret, you kept mine, right?"

She snorted, "The difference is I would've been believed, you would've easily been headless."

"Yes, aside from that. When?" he asked with annoyance.

Her eyes were downcast, but she couldn't focus on the musty straw in her hands. A dagger might've jumped out at her and she wouldn't have noticed. Did she dare tell him?

"When?" he implored again, this time his voice softer.

She sighed exasperatedly, "Would it even matter? We're both clearly tried to kill each other time and time again. What would my dramatic retelling of an incident long ago prove?"

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Perhaps to stop you from lording your grand heroics over me," she said with a sneer.

"Did I say anything more? Goodness, you're prickly about that, aren't you? Can't stand to have your enemy save you?" he asked tauntingly.

"No more than you, I'm sure. Besides, I merely can't stand self-important prats who ambiguously refer to imaginary events," she said.

"Seems like the pot calling the kettle black here."

She grumbled but said nothing else. A few moments passed in silence.

"Oh, I see," said Merlin, his lips quirking in a very amused and condescending smile.

"See what?" she said, looking up from the straw pile, annoyed and genuinely confused. What did Merlin see? Did he remember the incident?

"Nothing," he said with a smug smile. "I just know why you mentioned your heroics."

"Oh and why is that?" she asked, trying to sound uninterested. It was rather hard when his face moved closer.

"This," he said and before she could respond, his lips brushed softly against hers.

It was short and all too brief. Nowhere near as carnal or erotic as their previous kisses in the dark. And yet the quick slide of his lips against her, the gentle catch of their seal mouths had the same effect. Her heart beat against her ribs and she gasped at the sensation.

And all too quickly, it was over. He withdrew his lips and her eyes fluttered open to stare stupidly at him.

"Thank you for saving my life, Morgana. Maybe some day you'll tell me about it," he whispered, their lips a mere breath apart.

He pulled back to smile and she was sputtered, "That is not…I didn't say…I didn't want…how dare you!"

He smiled at her anger and said, "Now it's your turn."

"My turn for what?" she said, nearly shrill. _Surely he couldn't mean… _

"To thank me," said Merlin straightforwardly.

"Thank you? Huh, for what? A paltry kiss?"

"As I said, I saved your life _multiple _times. I think that deserves quite the smooch. And that kiss wasn't paltry, judging from your flush."

"Flush? I'm merely…that is, my skin is red from the cold. Besides_, supposedly_ saved my life."

"Still, do you want to take that chance? I mean, you might not get another opportunity to thank me and then you could be in my debt and I could ask for a huge favor like a griffin or a golden eagle or something. Then you'd have to give it to me and I could use it-"

Frustrated, aroused, and anxious for him to shut up, she yanked his head down, stopping his rambling comments with her lips. They both moaned at the renewed contact, the kiss quickly fulfilling the sensual promise of the last. He pulled her against him, closing the gap between their kneeled bodies.

Her hands tangled in his hair as she took control of the kiss, thrusting her tongue inside his mouth like a marauder, eager to taste him. She'd be damned if he could say she didn't show him enough gratitude. He moaned and pulled her into the gap between his legs. Every hardened muscle against her.

She ran her hands down his shoulders, over his back, and even over the hard curve of his buttocks. His hands weren't idle, running over her sides, brushing against the undersides of her breasts, rubbing her hips. But it wasn't close enough.

With a gentle tug and push, they managed to get onto the straw bed. Merlin let out a surprised groan as she landed with a gentle thud on top of him. His body cradled hers, his hardness pressed up against her body.

She liked this position. She liked being in control, liked the scattered caresses of his hands on her back, on her hips. His hands molded her against him, his body arching into hers. Her body circled against his hardness, setting off a thousand sparks of pleasure.

She trailed her lips across his cheek to his jaw as her hands crept along his clothed stomach. Her lips moved to his ear, nibbling on the rim then sucking on the lobe. Her fingers moved under the hem of his shirt, skittering across his stomach. He moaned as her hands moved up, stroking the taut skin of his ribs, finally coming to rest on his pecs. Her mouth moved to suck on his neck just as her thumbs brushed against his tiny peaked nipples.

He gasped loudly as he bucked his body into hers. "Is this what you wanted? Is this thanks enough, Merlin?" she breathed against his neck, her thumbs massaging small circles around his male nipples. She couldn't help but taunt him. This wasn't what she originally had in mind. But the haze of desire, the rush of sensation, it was too much to bear.

He was breathing raggedly. "You. Just you," he said hoarsely, drawing her lips back to his as he rolled them to the side. Her leg was caught on his hip and he pulled it higher, angling his body to rub right against the apex of her widened thighs. It was her turn to gasp as his mouth devoured her neck and he thrust against her. She arched into him, rubbing her breasts feverishly against him, the layers of clothing denying her better friction.

It was hot. Out of control. She couldn't think, could only feel as the sensations of his hands, of his body wrapped her in a swirl of desire.

But something was painfully lodged against her ankle. She tried to ignore the painful sensation as Merlin cupped her breasts, but a soft "Ouch" slipped out.

He pulled his head back, his eyes full of concern, "I'm sorry, did I hurt you? Are you alright?" He asked the questions with such perfect politeness, made all the more humorous by his mussed hair, hand on her behind, and the angle of her leg.

She blushed. "I'm fine. There's just something by my leg," she stammered out, aroused and suddenly all too aware of how far things had gone. What had she done? What were they doing? How did they always end up in this situation? She couldn't blame the darkness this time. What was wrong with her? She was trying to show a little gratitude and it had turned into…this. Ok, so more than a little gratitude.

Concerned, Merlin removed her curled leg from his hip and sat up to survey what was hurting her ankle. Moving aside a pile of straw that somehow had covered her ankle, he revealed a small pouch. He opened the small pouch and pulled out a tiny vial filled with a blue liquid, lifting it to the small shaft of sunlight.

"What is it?" she whispered, trying to adjust her skirts and put herself back together. She moved as far away as possible with the chains, afraid that any closer and she'd knock the vial out of his hand and pick up where they had just ended.

Looking back at her quickly removed position, Merlin frowned. "It appears we've …er…stumbled onto it. Looks like we might be getting out of here after all."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then she said in a controlled voice that belied the thundering of her heart and heat of her body, "I suppose that will suffice for the numerous times that you've saved my life?"

It had to be said. Had to be done. She couldn't afford this…attraction to Merlin. Couldn't let herself drown in the sensual pleasure of his body or the dark desires of her own. She needed the distance. _You, just you_, he'd said and she beat back the feelings those words evoked.

He surveyed her for a long moment and she struggled not to squirm under his gaze. It was as if he knew just how hard she was trying to save the tattered pieces of her pride. That kiss was nothing short of mind-blowingly-amazing and she could barely deny it. But she could try.

With a mysterious and somewhat said smile he said, "I don't think suffice is quite the word for it. But yes, that kiss will more than compensate for my efforts. Now this is vial actually contains a…"

**FINIS**

**It's getting harder and harder for Morgana to deny the burgeoning feelings between them. She still wants to push Merlin away, but he's starting to see right through her disguise. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've got some great dialogue coming up in the next one, then onto the big reveal. Please review!**


	14. Plans, Trust, Feelings

**Two chapters in one day? You're rather spoiled, aren't you?**

**In academia, we have a saying: "publish or perish". And today, in my academic work, I've definitely perished. Not sure if the "I was too busy writing on my fanfic" excuse will work for my director, particularly once when she sees the sad state of my dissertation chapter. But maybe I can sugarcoat it in some fashion, I'm nothing if not a diplomatic wordsmith. However, I am happy to have this one done as the words were nagging me all day. Seriously, sometimes it's like having a song stuck in your head. If you don't figure out a way to get it out, it'll plague you into madness. ****Maybe if I had someone writing a happy comment after every paragraph of my dissertation, I'd get more work done. ****Maybe? Possibly? Enjoy my procrastination!**

**Chapter 14**

They'd waited hours for the plate. Finally after dark, it came.

"Do you think this will work?" she said anxiously as Merlin sprinkled a few drops onto the plate.

"I have no bloody idea. But it's worth a try, eh?."

"Here," she said, tearing the roll into two. "There must be at least two guards out there. That's as many as we've seen the times they've come in. They could have an aversion to sharing."

"Good idea," he said, sprinkling several large drops onto each side of the divided roll.

"Ready to be haughty?" he said with a soft smile, handing her the plate.

"Always," she replied, smiling brightly.

She rapped her knuckles on the door and said in a dainty voice, "Guards! Guards!"

Several moments later the panel slid open. "What?" came the rude voice of the guard.

Shoving the half eaten plate up enough to be viewed in the small window, "Do you really expect me to eat this?"

"What do you mean? What's wrong with it?" he said brusquely.

"Isn't it obvious? This is not food fit for a lady. I demand another plate."

"What? Doesn't pretty boy want it?" said the guard.

"He too thinks this food is inadequate. Take it away," she said, huffing and placing the plate up against the opening at the bottom of the door.

The guard grumbled but grabbed the plate. "This is better food than most of the prisoners get served and you turn your nose up at it?"

He surveyed the plate as she and Merlin watched with baited breath. The guard sniffed it and then said, "What a waste. Too bad I never eat food that comes from that side. Never know what devious minds like yours are up to, eh, Princess?"

She saw him hand it to the other guard and then the plate was gone. Untouched. She heard Merlin curse under his breath.

"And since you've been _so very grateful_, you won't be getting another," said the guard with a pleased smile.

"As if I could stomach any more of what your pathetic kitchen has to offer. If your King plans to kill me, tell him he'd better do it the right way," she sneered even though her belly was barely full.

The only answer she received was the slam of the little panel.

"Damn," Merlin cursed, moving to sit on the bench. "I thought that would work. I remember Gwen tried something similar back in Camelot. Guards are usually a hungry lot. Brute strength and all that."

"It appears our jailor is smarter than he looks."

"Indeed," he said with a sigh, rubbing his hands exasperatedly over his face. "Good thing I saved some of this sleeping draught. You can use it tonight."

"I think I'll pass on that," she said, looking away quickly.

He looked at her through his hands and said, "Why not? You've clearly had some rather difficult nights here. Why not use some to help tonight?"

"I'd just prefer not to," she said firmly.

A moment passed and then he said, "Not matter what you think, Morgana, you can trust me."

"I've heard that before. It didn't end well for me."

"Still, you can trust me."

"What do you want from me, Merlin?"

"I don't know," he said with a frown.

"My undying trust and loyalty? Absolution? Some type of complete turn around?"

"I don't know….I just want…I want things the way they were before."

"Well, you saw an end to that, not me."

"I know. But even you can't completely blame me. I wasn't the one consorting with Morgause."

Angrily, she said, "I did what I thought was best! Magic shouldn't be hidden, people shouldn't have to feel the way I felt every day in Uther's control. Scared that at any moment someone would see right through my disguise and turn me in."

"If I remember, later you became good at disguise. You choose that method for yourself, no one else did," he said softly.

"It was the only way. It still is. Can't you see that?" she said. Sighing, she started, "I once asked you if I deserved to be executed for my magic and you said I didn't deserve it. Have you since changed your mind?"

Surprised, he said, "Of course not. But that doesn't give you the right to squander your gift. Doesn't give you the right to become everything you once abhorred: a tyrant in your own right."

"You don't understand," she said sullenly. Grabbing his sleeve, she asked beseechingly, "Is there nothing you would fight for? Nothing for which you would give your very life? Nothing that's worth any cost?"

It took him a moment to answer. Several emotions played over his features. Then he said stoutly, "Of course. Arthur and Camelot."

"Don't you see, Merlin? With every execution and I moved up in the line. If I didn't stop, if I don't stop Uther, it's only a matter of time before I'm next."

"You can't know that," he said slowly.

"Yes I can. Someone would've seen through me. I trusted you. How long before you would've betrayed me to Uther?"

His eyes met her, fierce and stubborn. "I never would've done that. I didn't even betray you even when I should've."

"And I'm to believe that? I'm to believe you never would've turned me in? After all that I've done? All I planned to do?" she said with disbelieving laugh.

"It's the truth," he said fiercely and she almost believed him. Almost.

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. "What about us? What about what's happening between us?" he said, looking directly into her eyes.

"What's happening between us?" she said lightly, darting her eyes away.

"Don't play coy, Morgana, it doesn't suit you. You know what I mean."

"There's nothing between us. We've been thrown into a difficult situation and we've tried to make the best of it. End of story," she said, giving him a nonchalant shrug.

"Really? Then why can't we keep our hands off each other? Why do you turn to me at night?"

"Like I said, things here are complicated. The emotions and the disappointments, we've been just been thrown together. It's just a natural occurrence, given the circumstances. Some lust and some fun. Nothing more."

"I don't believe that. You're different here. We're different," he said.

"Believe what you like, Merlin. When this is over, when my sister frees me from this place, we'll go back to our old lives. We'll still be enemies. I still have goals and you still have yours. Nothing's changed."

He narrowed his eyes and said, "So that's what you're going to do? Pretend that nothing ever happened? You're your emotions? Your feelings?"

"I've been doing it for the past few years. I've gotten pretty good at it. And no dream or vision or any tryst is going to stop me," she said vehemently and hoped that it was true.

"Dream? What dream?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

After a long moment, he said, "It was me, wasn't it?"

"You when?" she said, feigning ignorance.

"In the dream last night. It was me you were making love to."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snorted derisively. But it sounded fake to her ears.

"I'm not. Admit it, admit it was me, that I was your dream lover."

"Fine, if you insist, it was you. But it doesn't mean anything. It was just a dream."

"That's bollocks and you know it."

"Look, clearly you don't know anything about magic. It was a dream nothing else. Not every dream I have is some kind of vision," she said patronizing.

He studied her hard, making her glance away. Then a look of illumination came over his face. "Oh my God, you saw a child too didn't you?"

Shocked at his perception, she tried to remain calm. "What? No, absolutely not."

"You asked me about children earlier because you saw a child. Our child, it was ours."

"I may have seen a child. But I couldn't be sure who or what he was. He actually looked more like Mordred. So no, I didn't see our child. That's absurd. That's not at all in our future," said the last part laughingly, hoping to throw him off and to shame him into thinking it was ridiculous. He saw too much. He had guessed too much. She could barely deal with the dream herself….but to have Merlin involved, to have him questioning and validating her own confused thoughts, she'd go mad.

"It could be," snagging her gaze, he whispered those words with the ring of a promise. Then said nothing else.

She leaned back against the wall and took a calming breath. And then another. But it didn't seem to help. The ache in her chest wouldn't subside. The look in his eyes…had been intense. Real. Like he could see in the reflection of her eyes every detail of last night's dream. It was unsettling. She didn't like the emotions he was evoking. She hadn't been lying when she said she spent years learning to hide her emotions. Morgause said it made her a great spy.

But Merlin had always seen through her. Like he did now. She couldn't hide from him. And that was terrifying because he was the person from whom she most needed to hide. The promise in his eyes. The words he spoke. The future he seemed to draw out of the very fabric of her dreams.

That wasn't reality. Those weren't possibilities for her. And she'd be a fool to get sucked into the dark attraction of Merlin and the life he promised.

He didn't know anything about her. Didn't know anything about magic. How could he ever be a match for her? How could he ever give her a son who could perform magic? _A dream, that's all. T'was only a dream_, she assured herself for the fiftieth time.

She could never have the life she saw in the dream. It wasn't possible. Not anymore. Not if she got what she wanted.

After a few minutes of contemplative silence, he finally spoke again. "Here, I'll take a sip and then you'll know it's not poison. Frankly, I too could use some decent sleep tonight." And then he took a quick sip of the blue liquid and passed it to her.

After surveying him, she finished off the vial and within moments, felt her eyelids began to flutter.

They moved to the bed, easily snuggling under the covers and laying their tired limbs down. It wasn't as cold as last night, but she did move closer to Merlin for warmth. Just enough to feel the heat of his body next to hers.

Dreamless sleep came quickly. She tried not to be disappointed.

**FINIS**

**Merlin's one smart cookie. And if you got the subtle allusion to _Friends_ (Ross and Rachel in S2, the famous "cat with Julie" episode) then you deserve a cookie. I thought that Merlin would be the one to forgive the quickest. Or if not forgive, see a future for them more clearly. His soul hasn't been quite as corrupted as Morgana's, plus he's really on her side, just not playing the game the same way. I also see Merlin as less guarded than Morgana. She's been hurt by Merlin before (of course, they both share in that hurting each other thing). I think Merlin's more than ready to see some of the goodness left in her or at least see the complicated emotions that have made her who she is, particularly at this stage in the game. **

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! Really helped me get this chapter up so quickly! **


	15. Love and Secrets, again

Chapter 15

It wasn't a dream per se. Rather he felt himself floating through levels of awareness, barely conscious of his surroundings. He felt sensation, warmth, but he wasn't fully awake.

His body was hard, aching. But then it usually was in the morning. Sleeping next to Morgana had only made it more so.

Something fluttered near his cheek, something warm and soft. A woman's hand from the sweet smell of her skin. Was it Morgana's? He moved his head toward the open palm, eager to get closer. His cheek rubbed against the softness of it and he moaned in contentment. Fingers traced his cheekbones, brushed against his eyelashes.

He turned his head and pressed his lips against the open palm, lips dragging against her skin. His tongue flicked out, tasting the salty heat of her palm.

Moving his lips up, he nibbled on the fleshy part of her hand. He thought he heard a soft moan but he couldn't be sure. She slipped her thumb down to run over his lips. He moaned at the gentle sweep on his parted lips. Opening his mouth further, he caught the tip of her thumb between his lips. Drawing it into his mouth to the knuckle, he softly sucked on it. Like he longed to suck on her nipple.

He heard a soft gasp and suddenly, the warm sensation, the soft press of her hand, the thumb was gone. His face felt cold in places where it had recently been hot. He opened his eyes, disoriented. Confused. Aroused.

Morgana's eyes were looking away, but he could see a delicate blush stain her face. He could still taste the salty deliciousness of her skin. It wasn't merely his imagination or some groggy images from his randy mind. It had been real.

"Good morning," he said, his voice scratchy from sleep.

"Oh, you're awake," she said too brightly. He let her have her illusions. For now.

He sat up and put his back to the wall as she was doing.

He tried to calm his raging hard-on with mundane questions. "How long have you been awake?" he asked.

"Just a bit. The sleeping draught knocked me out pretty well. Although I forgot some of the unpleasant side effects," she said.

He stretched, trying to get the heaviness out of his limbs, one of the side effects of the sleeping draught. "I'm sure you prefer your bracelet," he said.

Looking down at her naked wrist, save for the manacle, she sighed and said, "It is more convenient. If Orsric doesn't return it, I'm sure Morgause can make me another."

"I'm sure she will," he said softly. Another mention of Morgause reminded him of the last time he saw them both. Caught beneath the crumbling dust of the castle, Morgana screaming down the stones. It wasn't an image he could easily forget. The hatred, the anger, the pain he saw in her gaze as she said those fateful words, "No, you're wrong. It's just begun."

Little did he know.

He slanted a glance over to her. He meant what he said last night though. He wouldn't hedge his words. Things were different between them. She was different here. Certainly flickers of anger were something he still saw, but there was softness in her eyes when he least expected it.

She was strong, but she was also fragile. Not weak, just delicate, uncertain. Still searching for her own identity after such a jolt of uncertainty. Something else they had in common. He well knew how that felt Not just with magic, but with his father, with his position as Dragonlord. Even with his destiny. Every one of those events, that knowledge had altered the very fabric of his being. And yet it hadn't. He felt changed, different with those announcements, but it was more like he was illuminated than turned over. Like layers had peeled away. He understood more about himself now than he ever had. He didn't envy Morgana's process….but he wished he could ease it. Help her in some way. After the botched job he'd done the first time, it wasn't surprising that she'd turned to Morgause for magical understanding.

Such an event, followed by the truth about her parentage and a bid for Queen? It was more than any young woman should have to bear alone. To be honest, he had difficulty bearing his own burdens alone. She shouldn't have to. And yet she bear it she did, with a strength that rivaled his own.

But in the past day or so, he saw more of the fractures in her strength. At times, she acted like a woman playing Queen rather than being it. He missed her old self. She'd been sassy, strong willed, and loyal. It was an attractive combination. Characteristics he valued.

Everything here was uncertain and yet she'd borne it all with remarkable humility. For all her biting comments about his place as a manservant, she didn't treat him as such. She shared the food, even shared the bathwater. They were partners, reluctant ones, but she wasn't Queen here and was eager to help in any way possible. It had made a difficult situation bearable.

Was it any shock that he was softening towards her? That the desperation he felt for escape was eclipsed only by the desperation to be with her? To save her from the destructive path she was on?

Things were bubbling over. Emotions slipping. And he couldn't make himself care anymore. Deep down, he knew this was his last chance, his only chance to be with her. She was right about one thing: once they left this place things would go back to the way they were before. Enemies. These few days might be the only time he had with the real Morgana. He was done fighting this feeling. Done lying to himself.

Love and hatred. Who knew they were such kindred emotions? He thought he could hate her. Tried his damnest for over a year to hate what she had become, what she had done to their imperfect little world at Camelot. They had hope in Arthur, couldn't she see that?

But he had to take his share of the blame. He'd denied her comfort at a time when she'd needed it the most…and it broke her, destroyed the delicate advantage she had over loneliness, over isolation. An advantage he often forgot he possessed in his relationship with Gauis.

Maybe being here was his punishment for that calculated act of denial. Maybe that cruel bitch Fate had destined for them to be together in Orsric's dungeon, only to rip his heart out when she trotted back to Morgause, to Orsric for an alliance that destroyed Camelot.

It seemed fitting.

Because he knew it was true. He knew he couldn't stop her. He'd give her everything he could: his love, his passion, his pain, the very soul from his body.

But not his loyalty (that still belonged to Arthur) and not his secret. Not here. Not now.

And that was the kicker, because those might be the very things that saved her or destroyed him. Swing the pendulum one way happiness and love forever, swing it the other and it was destruction and chaos. Epic failure.

Life was full of uncertainties. Roads never taken, paths never crossed. And he would never know because at this fork in the road, he'd decided to turn around. Destiny had a sadistic sense of humor and she'd been laughing at him for quite some time.

The squeak of the trap door opened as breakfast was shoved in. It pulled him out of his reverie.

They got up together, used to moving as one within the confines of the manacle. She picked up the plate as they moved to sit on the bench.

She smiled softly at him and he felt a lance of pain shoot through his chest, a small precursor to the pain he knew he would feel as soon as tomorrow.

Even that one shot surpassed any pain he'd felt before. More than Will or Freya or his father, more than the physical pain of poisoning or any other injury he'd suffered.

He returned her smile knowing all that while that he was powerless to stop her from hurting him, from hurting herself. No matter how much he was tempted, he couldn't tell her about his magic.

That denial would ruin both their lives. In some ways, it already had. Yet the truth had the possibility to ruin more than his life if she used that information. He couldn't know how she would react, but he couldn't take that chance, not with Camelot's future in the balance.

So he'd soak up every moment with her. Drink in her beauty, her fire, her passion, her rage, knowing that these last few days would have to last a lifetime.

**FINIS**

**Angsty, right? I thought it was about time we got back into Merlin's head here. Merlin usually chooses the collective good over his own emotions, something we love about him, but something that also frustrates us to no end.** **I think here it would be no different. He can't be sure of Morgana's reaction to his magic. If he had initially told her, most of us would agree, the outcome would've been totally different (although Camelot wouldn't have a villain). But now, he's still not sure what will happen with that revelation. She could use it against him, could use it to destroy Camelot, or it could be her saving grace. Those outcomes haunt him. He wants to tell her but there are things he just can't risk. Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed this naughty and dark chapter. **


	16. Another Bath, Jealousy, and Dragoon

**Why another update within 48 hours? I blame the classical music which is meant to stimulate my academic work but merely stimulates my Mergana imagination. This is quite a long chapter with a few different happenings, but the next one is the big reveal. Thanks for everyone for the lovely reviews! I'm always so excited to read what you think.**

Chapter 16

Around mid afternoon, the door opened. Two guards swiftly entered carrying the large wooden tub from before.

"Has your King devised some new plan to get to me relent? Does he hope to persuade me by forcing me to watch you bathe?" Morgana quipped.

The same guard from last night muttered, "More like to drown you."

Under the watchful eyes of three guards, several maids came in bearing large buckets of steaming hot water. Soon the tub was filled.

The guard who'd addressed her before turned and said, "The King will return later this evening to speak with you. He _thoughtfully_ suggested that you have the opportunity to bathe again. He has also bid me to unshackle you, and for a maid to assist you. He's even thrown in a privacy screen so pretty boy won't watch."

Moving closer, the guard warily continued, "Now don't think of trying anything. We have several additional guards posted outside for that purpose. You won't be leaving unless you're on the King's arm. Now give me your wrists and I'll undo you."

She and Merlin slowly brought up their wrists and the guard used a large key to undo the lock on each of manacles.

The heavy weight fell away and she chaffed the skin around her wrist. It felt rather strange to be unshackled from Merlin. She still felt tethered, her body still attuned to his. It was peculiar.

"I'll send in Hannah. The King has also provided you with some new clothing," the guard said, a sinister smile on his face.

"I'll bet he has," she muttered as he walked away.

"Do you think we should make a run for it?" Merlin muttered next to her, eyeing the open door where the guards stood.

"It's too risky. He's right, there's likely a whole bloody army stationed out there. I can count just three from here," she whispered back.

"Maybe I could-" he started but was interrupted by the entrance of a young blonde woman. She was a few years younger than them but she had the type of sweet round face of a country girl, with large blue eyes. She looked at the two of them and gave a soft smile. One that was pointedly directed at Merlin.

Curtsying, she said in an airy voice, "My lady, my name's Hannah. I'm here to serve you."

The guard started to close the door and stopped to say, "Now don't be getting any ideas about persuading sweet Hannah here. She's not susceptible." Although there seemed to be more of a warning for the young woman than for them.

She couldn't help but notice how quickly Hannah's cheeks pinkened when she glanced at Merlin.

Annoyed, she said brusquely, "Well let's get on with it. The water's not getting any warmer."

She strode as regally as possible behind the privacy screen. And if she gave extra sway to her hips, it was only because she was finally free of Merlin at her wrist and could finally walk without being encumbered. That was why, no other reason.

Hannah made quick work of her gown and hung it over the screen with the new gown. While the young maidservant was more than efficient, Morgana couldn't help but wish for some more clumsy and warm hands. Like Merlin's. After nearly everything was removed, Hannah went around the privacy screen, giving Morgana some additional privacy.

She sank into the bath and let out a soft moan. But it was drowned out by the sound of Merlin's voice.

"So,Hannah, how long have you worked here?" he said in a sweet voice.

"A year or two…sir."

"It's Merlin, pleased to meet you," he practically purred.

"Pleased to meet you," Hannah replied in the same airy voice that was quickly coming to annoy Morgana.

"You're more than welcome to the seat next to me, Hannah. I'm sure being a maid keeps you on your feet all day. I know as Arthur's manservant, my feet ache something fierce at the end of the day," Merlin said sweetly. When had Merlin become so accommodating?

"I don't know. Maybe I should keep my distance, the guard said-" Hannah said uncertainly.

"Oh he's just surly because he's been standing all day. Why don't you take a load off while the lady bathes. I'm sure she won't mind."

Oh he presumed to know what she wouldn't mind?

"I don't know…" said the young maid, although there was some longing in her voice.

"She won't mind, I promise. She takes _forever_ to bathe anyways."

Morgana frowned at the veiled insult. She wouldn't remain silent any longer. "I don't take that long," she said, trying to keep the petulant sound out of her voice.

"Sure you don't, my lady. Just take your time and Hannah and I can talk quietly over here while you enjoy your bath," he said.

Morgana heard him pat the bench and then he continued, "Don't worry, I don't bite."

The girl giggled but she clearly sat down by Merlin.

True to their word, both kept their voices low. She heard some murmurs and the occasional giggle, but essentially nothing.

She should've been relaxing. She hadn't had a genuinely private moment since she'd woken up in this hellhole. But instead of relief, she felt rising annoyance. What was Merlin up to? Why was he flirting with Hannah?

She rushed through her bath, rubbing the soap angrily over her skin and hair. She clenched her teeth every time she heard another giggle or a low masculine laugh. Why didn't Merlin ever laugh like that with her?

Leaving the tub, she grabbed for the towel and began to rub water off her skin. She strained to hear bits of their conversation.

"Sweet" and "beautiful eyes" were the only tidbits she caught, but it was enough to get her more curious.

She peeked around the corner of the screen and her heart stopped at what she saw. Merlin was reaching up to brush a lock of errant hair from the Hannah's face. He was smiling, a sweet and genuine smile that was as seductive as it was heartwarming. How dare he flirt with the maid who's job it was to help her!

Fuming, she quickly barked, "Hannah, I need you."

The girl jumped and quickly made her way behind the screen. Surprisingly Merlin followed to speak to Hannah from the other side of the screen.

"So then I told Arthur 'You're getting a bit fat, might want to lay off the sausages.' And he responded in this really squeaky voice, 'I'm not fat, I'm fighting fit!'. You should've seen the look on his face, it was absolutely priceless. For weeks afterwards, I kept catching him at the looking glass, surveying his body."

Helping Morgana into the new silk chemise and stockings, Hannah pulled the new gown off the top of the screen. She giggled loudly at the story and if Morgana wasn't so annoyed, she'd have laughed too. Arthur was a tad bit vain and Merlin was the perfect person to knock him off his princely pedestal.

"I can't imagine he liked that," Hannah said as she began to pull the laces at the back of the gown. It was beautiful red velvet gown with touches of embroidery on the sleeves and hem. And while she normally would've liked the bold color and material, the gown was extremely low cut, pushing her breasts up in the square neck.

"Not at all. He's something of a prat and definitely doesn't need a boot licker," Merlin continued.

Hannah giggled again and Morgana clenched her teeth hard to avoid saying something. As the last lace was tied, the girl said, "Should I get some guards to empty the water, my lady?"

While Morgana still was still annoyed at how pointedly Merlin was ignoring her and flirting with Hannah, she wouldn't let the water go to waste. "No, it's fine. Merlin can have a go at it. The water's still warm, despite my how _long_ I seem to take."

She and Hannah moved around the privacy screen, only to see Merlin flash Hannah a naughty smile. "Yes, I might require some assistance of you, Mistress Hannah."

The girl blushed but said, "I'd be delighted to help."

Morgana felt a quick burst of anger and bit out, "I'm sure Merlin can manage on his own."

Still staring at Hannah, he continued, "Oh, I'm not so sure, my lady. Mayhap Hannah can stay and help-"

"That'll be all, Hannah," she said in a brisk voice that brokered no argument.

The girl looked startled but quickly said, "If there's anything else you require, let me know." As Hannah bobbed into a curtsy, Merlin annoyedly mouthed "What?" to Morgana.

With a quick glance back and a soft smile that was returned by Merlin, Hannah was gone.

The smile quickly faded from Merlin's face as he turned to face her. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed. "I was trying to get her to help us. I was halfway there."

She snorted and tossed her wet hair, "More like halfway to getting a roll in the hay."

"A roll in the hay? Are you mad?" he said incredulous. Then his voice softened. "Or just jealous?"

"Jealous? Me? Please," she said, smirking.

He folded his arms and said in a patronizing voice, "Doesn't your face hurt from scrunching it up so much? I'd think those smirks would come with a price."

She scowled but said nothing.

"I'm not interested in her, you know," he said softly.

She glanced away and said in a lofty voice, "As if I care who you're interested in."

He stared her down, "I know you like to wear green, but this particular shade of jealousy doesn't look good on you, sweetheart."

She felt her treacherous heart leap at the endearment, despite the comment.

He gave an exasperated sigh and said, "You'd think someone as beautiful as you would know better than to be jealous of a mere slip of a woman." His eyes glanced over her, taking in her dress and only then realizing how provocative it was. She felt a small measure of satisfaction as his eyes heated and his Adam's apple bobbed. Then he said huskily, "You're stunning. Who could look at her when you're in the room?"

While she was more than a little pleased by his compliment, he'd commented on her beauty before. "Yes, I'm well aware that I'm beautiful and you're only a man."

He gave a soft chuckle and said, "Surely you've guessed that I was lying. Merely beautiful? I've never met anyone as lovely as you. You're more than a pretty face and a sensual body, why else have I have been so thoroughly enchanted by you? "

"How do I know you're not just buttering me up like you did her?" And that was the crux of the issue. His comments to young Hannah sounded too similar to some of the ones he'd showered on hers. She should be weary of his sincerity.

Clearly taking the offer of the bath, he grabbed for the hem of his shirt and hoisted it over his head. She drew in a sharp breath at the second sight of his naked chest. He smiled as he noticed her reaction and said, "Because I don't usually go to so much trouble. Plus, I'm not quite as practiced as your courtiers, remember? Why else would I have spent the last few days getting my hide frayed by your acid comments if I was merely trying to butter you up. Besides, I've rather enjoyed doing _other things_ with you."

She wasn't sure what to make of that last comment. Other things? Did he mean what she thought he meant? Should she be pleased that he enjoyed the 'other things' as much as she? Should she even be enjoying those other things?

He removed his books and socks, "Well, you'd best get on the other side of that privacy screen or you're going to see more than you angling to see the other day."

She blushed crimson and sputtered, "I didn't see much…I mean, I didn't see anything. Not that I'd want to look at any of your…I didn't see anything!"

He smirked as he reached for the buttons of his breeches. "It's alright. I've dreamed of having your eyes on me since the first time you glanced my way in the Great Hall," he said heatedly.

She darted around the corner of the privacy screen. She well remembered that moment in the Great Hall. They had both been so young. Their eyes catching across the expanse of the hall. For a moment, she couldn't look away. The heat. The ache. The power that she saw in his eyes, it was so…consuming. Singed. Burned. Hot. But she'd broken the connection. Knew that the King's ward shouldn't be looking at a servant, even a gawking one.

"Aren't you supposed to hate me?" she said warily. She was surprised by this sudden change in attitude. Merlin was actually flirting with her. And she was enjoying it.

A few splashes indicated he was in the bathtub. "I could never hate you. We desire each other. I've never felt this way. That's not hatred, my sweet. Besides, I thought you hated fighting anyways.

"Perhaps," she said thoughtfully. "I still have goals, Merlin. This won't come to anything."

"You never know, my sweet. I can be fairly persuasive," he said arrogantly.

She couldn't help the small giggle that bubbled up. She was as bad as Hannah. "You're deluding yourself."

"Pot, it's Kettle," he said, more splashing. "But keep talking, I like the sound of your voice."

She still wasn't sure what to make of this new situation. "Is this some new tactic? Get me to talk myself hoarse and then you'll have silence for the rest of the day."

"No, I have some other activities in mind and I definitely need your voice for that. And your mouth," he said wickedly.

She blushed. "You're incorrigible."

"You love it. Besides, we'll be enemies soon enough. We were friends once. Let's try to keep the peace for a while. I missed you."

"What's there to miss? I'm still the same person, Merlin. Just maturer. Wiser to the ways of the world. Maybe darker, but then, so are you. I just have goals now, ambitions besides marrying some man who'll make a good alliance for Uther," she said. It was true.

"Fair point. But I haven't given up on you."

She wasn't sure what exactly he hadn't given up on: her soul or her body?

She didn't know which one scared her more.

The guards emptied the bath water after Merlin finished. They eyed the entrance again, but it was still too heavily guarded. It seemed that they weren't taking any chances. Dinner was brought in a little afterwards.

"Feels strange, doesn't it?" Merlin said, breaking the silence.

"What?" she asked.

"Not being shackled together, it feels strange, right?" he said.

"Maybe. I suppose a person can endure anything when it's forced on them."

Putting his hand over his chest, he said," You wound me, my lady. I thought I had tried to make our stay here as comfortable as possible."

A few more moments passed in silence and he said, ""I prefer you like this."

Puzzled, she said, "What smelly and uncouth? Or barely covered in this inappropriate gown from Orsric?

"No, natural. Well, there's nothing natural about that gown except for it's choice of color, although I'm not complaining. But no, without all the cosmetic touches and the smirks. Your beauty was always too natural to be obscured by rouge."

She blushed and shifted uncomfortably, his words affecting her more than she would like. "How's Arthur?" she asked, changing the subject to avoid more uncomfortable compliments.

"Your mean your royal Prattiness? Fine. Older. Wiser. He was as hurt by Uther's betrayal as you were," he said the last part softly. Without accusation.

"I seriously doubt that," she replied tartly.

"Maybe not in the same way, but he too had grown up motherless, without a sibling. To find out that all along you were his sister and that you were now his enemy. Well, it's a different kind of hurt."

"I suppose," she admitted.

"Plus you did try to kill his true love. That's likely not his best sisterly moment."

"I might've enjoyed the initial game of it all, but I was glad Dragoon or whatever his name was, saved her. I don't know if I could've watched Gwen die," she admitted. She'd really hoped that Arthur would abdicate the thrown and runaway with Gwen. Everything has spun out of control after that. She couldn't reveal the plan without exposing herself. Yet another sin against her. She'd loved Arthur as a brother. He'd protected her from Uther's temper when she'd done something that ignited the King's anger. But now he stood in her way. If she wanted to accomplish her goals, to bring magic back into the realm, Arthur needed to be neutralized. She'd tried to find a way to get rid of him without killing him, but Arthur was invincible as Merlin had earlier claimed.

"I'm glad he saved her too," he said softly.

This was getting too heavy again. She didn't have to justify herself to Merlin. She didn't need to explain her actions. She shook off some of the lingering guilt brought on by the conversation and asked, "Didn't he run right by you in the hall?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. "Maybe, why?"

"I remember Arthur saying something about him. Too spry for you to catch?" she teased.

"He was surprisingly agile for an old man," he protested.

She chuckled and said, "That I can well believe. He was certainly impertinent enough. While I liked him because he was a sorcerer, I thought his sass was even more adorable. He certainly bested Arthur. And you."

Merlin smiled. "Yeah, Dragoon the Great. Who would've thought he could provide such entertainment in Camelot? And save Gwen? I think the bards should write him a song. A folk hero if I've ever heard of one."

They were both laughing at the image of Dragoon when suddenly the door opened. Orsric entered with two guards by his side.

He smiled coldly. Morgana's reckoning had come.

**FINIS**

**Dun, dun, dun, DUN. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. A little jealousy, a little sass, and quite a lot of flirting on Merlin's part! I think he's more adept than Arthur gives him credit for. Please review!**


	17. Truth is Rarely Pure and Never Simple

**Whoa, 3 chapters in 3 days. Bloody hell.**

**Chapter 17**

They both stood. Not out of respect or reverence, but out of a desire to show Orsric that his scare tactics wouldn't work on them. They were literally standing their ground.

Orsric surveyed the two of them for a minute and said, "I hope those pearls of laughter were about the joyous union between the two of us."

"Oh, we were laughing at that alright. More at how delusional you are to think that I would actually marry you," she sneered.

"Haven't I shown myself to be hospitable man? Why, I'd even go so far as to say my kindness today was downright husbandly,"Orsric said.

"A bath and a gown fit for a harlot? Yes, husbandly indeed."

"You've got fire, don't' you, my dear? Like a spirited young filly. And I'm more than up to the challenge of taming you."

Advancing towards him with steely intent, she said, "I'll say it with my dying breath, Orsric. I will never marry you."

The King smiled cruelly. And without breaking her gaze, he said, "Guards, I think my future bride needs to be restrained. Her emotions seem to be getting the better of her."

As one of the guards grabbed Morgana rather roughly, Merlin moved towards him, determined to prevent any manhandling. "Restrain the boy too. It appears it was too kind of me to undo you two," said Orsric.

Both of them were forced to their knees, turned slightly towards each other. The heavy weight of the guards' hands was settled on their shoulders.

"Get used to that position, my sweet, because you'll find yourself there quite often," Orsric said with a devilish smile as he took in the ample amount of cleavage the dress and his position afforded.

"Never," she said again. "When will you realize Orsric I would no more align myself with you than with a snake."

"Ah, but I can be so very persuasive, my dear." He nodded toward Merlin and one of the guards grabbed Merlin's hair and jerked his head back.

"What about the boy?" said the King, taking perverse pleasure in the contortions of pain on Merlin's face.

"What about him?" she said with nonchalance. She didn't even flinch as she heard Merlin wince in pain. She couldn't let Orsric see her reaction to Merlin. He'd only use it against her.

"Aren't you two lovers? Or at the very least friends?"

"Friends?" she laughed heartily. "Lovers? You certainly have an active imagination, Orsric. Merlin here tried to kill me. More than once. And I never forgive a deed done against me. Never."

She found perverse pleasure in the quick flicker of uncertainty in Orsric's gaze. "My guards thought there might be something between you two."

"Something between us? Are you mad? Arthur's servant and a Queen like myself? Glad to hear your opinion of me is so high," she finished sarcastically. Flicking her gaze to Merlin's, feigning indifference she didn't feel, she continued, "I do enjoy playing with Merlin, but one never likes to mix business with pleasure. And it's always been business between Merlin and I. Not that the poor boy's known it these last few days."

Orsric quickly pulled out a jeweled dagger and pressed it against Merlin's exposed throat. "So you'd have no qualms about me killing him?"

"Go ahead. I've been trying to accomplish that task for years." She shrugged and said, "Although a dagger to the throat seems a bit kind coming from you. Surely you can think of more…creative and informative ways to kill him."

Orsric removed his dagger from Merlin's throat and she gave a silent sigh of relief. She knew men like Orsric, knew that they thrived on the fear, on the power they could hold over others. If she could make Orsric believe she didn't care for Merlin, that his demise meant nothing to her, they might have a chance.

"I suppose you're right. Maybe as a wedding present I'll let you watch as I tear the man apart," he said with glee.

"That would be kind of you. But I still won't marry you, Orsric. When my sister gets here-"Morgana began. She wouldn't let Orsric lull her into his game. She would stand her ground, no matter the cost.

"Your sister will be here tomorrow," he said boredly.

Her brow furrowed. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow. She's sent word ahead. She's proposed a meeting to discuss a few matters, namely me not killing her for the death of Cenred. As you know, I can't make a promise of that sort, my reputation and all."

She tried not to look so interested. To look bored by his words, but he must've seen something in her eyes. He continued with a rueful smile, "But if you agree to marry me now, I'll promise not to kill your beloved sister."

She saw Merlin out of the corner of her eye and watched as he waited with baited breath for her answer. It wasn't Camelot he was concerned about. It was her. Did he still believe her eager for an alliance?

But she'd promised herself long ago that she would never align herself with a cruel bastard like Orsric. No matter the cost. She didn't negotiate with terrorists. Orsric couldn't be trusted. And Morgause had proved time and time again that she could take care of herself. She'd only pray that this time was no different.

"Never. My sister will find a way to free me, be assured of that. You'll be putty in her hand by the end of your meeting and that's my promise. She had a King like Cenred wrapped around her little finger, what makes you think you're so different?"

"Unlike my foolish cousin, it's not Morgause who makes my prick harden," he said, caressing the upper swells of her exposed breasts.

"Go to hell," she said through clenched teeth at his crude words and lecherous touch.

He bent down on one knee and said, "You first." And without warning or preamble, he crushed his mouth to hers. She tried to twist away but with Orsric's mouth on her and the guard's hands on her shoulders, she wasn't able.

She heard Merlin shuffle beside her, clearly trying to help her. Disgust seized her as Orsric's mouth smashed against her. His lips were hard, rough, thin, lacking the gentleness and the softness of Merlin's. And when his tongue flicked out to push into hers, she renewed her struggles tenfold. Gripping her jaw painfully, he forced her mouth open and his tongue plunged inside. It was revolting, his breath was rank and he shoved his tongue nearly down her throat.

Desperate to escape his oppressive kiss, she clamped her teeth down on his slippery tongue, biting hard enough to make him yelp and for her to taste blood.

He jerked back, fury radiating through every muscle of his face. "You little bitch!" he said, a few drops of blood slipping onto his lips.

It happened so fast. And yet it was like she was watching the whole event unfold in slow motion. One minute she was staring at Orsric's enraged face, the next there was a burning pain in her left cheek as the back of his hand made contact with her face. The force of the blow sent her entire head reeling to the side. Her eyes met Merlin's, his entire face contorted with rage.

And then it happened-she saw his eyes glow gold as his lips soundlessly muttered words only someone with magic could understand.

The entire incident took a mere five seconds but it was enough.

Merlin had magic. And she knew.

After the power of Orsric's blow, her head fell to her chest.

She was stunned. Her face hurt. She felt a trickle of blood fall down her cheek. Orsric's jeweled ring had cut her cheek open. But she was numb, not with pain but with confusion. Despair. Anger and not at the man kneeling in front of her, but the one next to her.

"My apologies for the burst of temper. You are very provoking, my dear," Orsric said with a voice of supposed gentility as he pulled handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the blood near his mouth and on his hand.

She said nothing. Her eyes were unfocussed. She wasn't sure how she was still kneeling, when all she wanted to do was crumble. How could he keep such a secret from her? How could she not know?

It took every ounce of strength she possessed to rally herself for the situation at hand. Orsric was cruel, but he was observant. Although apparently he'd missed Merlin's magic, she couldn't give him any more cause for suspicion. Or to see any weakness in her. She narrowed her eyes as she said, "Yes, I'm sure that it was all my fault. The answer's still never, Orsric. Now and forever."

He smiled. "I see. So your sister's life means nothing? I'll be happy to tell her so tomorrow. Right before I run a sword through her belly."

Her eyes glittered defiantly. "You're even more of a fool than I thought. Your days are numbered, Orsric. If my sister doesn't kill you, I promise you that I will. Like I said, I never forget a deed done against me. Never."

Grabbing her face again in his bruising hold, he said, "Well, we'll see what you say tomorrow, shall we? But don't keep me waiting much longer, my sweet. You're trying the very last vestiges of my patience already. I might have to resort to other _means_ to woo you. And those means will make that paltry slap feel like a caress."

He smiled coldly as he strutted out of the room. The guards quickly followed after shoving she and Merlin to the ground.

As the door slammed, she felt the final threads of her composure crumble. A sob caught in her throat.

Alarmed, Merlin moved closing, his hands turning her body towards him. "Morgana? Morgana? Oh my God, are you alright?" His fingers moved to tilt her head to the light to examine her wound.

She looked in his eyes. The compassion. The anguish. It was all a lie. Shoving him away, she felt heavy tears begin to slide down her face. "Get away from me!"

He reached for her again, "Morgana, you're hurt. Let me help you."

"No!" she shouted, slapping his hand away. "No! You lied to me! I saw. I saw your eyes glow gold. I heard you mutter a spell. You have magic!"

He looked startled. Surprised. Then the mask fell back into place and his look became patronizing, gentle. "Morgana….I…you don't know what you saw."

Rage like she'd never felt bubbled up inside her. She'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly. Not Uther. Not Orsric. Neither had made her feel this much rage. How could he deny it after so long? How could he deny what she'd seen with her very eyes? "Don't. Lie. To. Me. I know what I saw!"

Their eyes met in the semi-darkness tears continued to form in her eyes. The situation was too similar to the last time. It was in the physician's chambers. She was younger. More frightened. Well, more frightened of herself than she was now. The sweet sympathy in his eyes had been welcome, he'd been kind. Until he'd shut her out. Denied her the truth, given her a pathetic, hedging answer when she'd desperately needed knowledge. Affirmation. He'd called her back, but by that time, she was too distraught to return. Too hurt to face his cold comfort.

But this wasn't Camelot. And she wasn't the King's frightened ward anymore. Time, danger, actions had been done since then. In spite of and because of that one moment, when Gaius was gone and she'd turned to the only person who might understand.

He hadn't understood. Or so she thought.

Merlin turned his body away and his shoulders slumped, defeated. "Yes, Morgana. Yes, I have magic," he said hoarsely, desperately. As if the admission was both a relief and a torture.

He covered his eyes with his hands but a silent tear managed to slip through the crack in his fingers.

She breathed a shaky sigh as the words washed over her. She finally knew the truth.

**FINIS**

**I hope you loved this chapter nearly as much as I loved writing it. We'll get to more of the issues with Merlin's magic in the next chapter. **

**But Morgana knows! Huzzah!**

**Please review! Pretty please?**


	18. Give All My Secrets Away

**A lot of reviewers asked what spell Merlin used and why it was so ineffective. If you remember from earlier, Merlin and Morgana are in a cell that prevents them from doing magic. Morgana initially tries to do some magic, and while her eyes glow, nothing actually happens. Enjoy!**

Chapter 18

It was done. His secret was out.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, removing any small traces of tears. After she's returned to Camelot and had promptly tried to destroy the kingdom, he's promised himself that no matter what she did, no matter how much she'd hurt him, he would never cry for her again. Never.

He'd just broken that promise. That one and so many more. Promises to his mother, to Gaius, to Kilgarrah. Promises to a future Camelot that hadn't even been formed.

But none of those promises meant anything anymore. Because trust was a promise, right?. And that was a promise he'd owed Morgana for far too long.

In that one moment when Orsric's hand had made contact with her face, he forgot everything, everything except for the bone deep rage that quaked through every cell in his body. A red haze clouded his vision and he had just reacted, his lips muttering a killing curse. No one dared touch her. No one dared hurt her.

But from the moment she told him not to lie, he couldn't deny it, couldn't hide it anymore. Maybe given some time, more persuasion she might've been convinced that she hadn't seen what she thought. But he'd seen the hardened look in her eyes. If he'd lied then, she never would give him a chance to explain. Ever. And that wasn't a risk he could take. Not anymore.

He glanced over at her, the woman who he'd denied so much. She looked like a broken down doll. Her body was slumped over, her hair hiding parts of her face, her legs beneath her. But he could still see the two inch line from where Orsric's ring had cut her skin. Blood and tears were mingling together and she made no move to stop their flow.

Blank. She looked blank. Numb. Hollow.

He needed to tend to her wound. Removing his handkerchief, he moved to the small pale of water they'd been provided for water. Dipping his handkerchief, he wrung out the excess and moved towards her.

Cautiously, he touched her chin and turned her face to the little bit of light so he could better see the cut. Her eyes didn't move from their fixed place on the floor. Gently he dabbed the under the cut, washing the blood that had slid down the pale white of her cheek. He softly wiped at the open wound and she flinched slightly.

"Sorry," he murmured.

The sound seemed to startle her more than any of the his actions. Her eyes shot up and finally met his.

He sucked in a breath at the haunted look in her eyes. She might've stuck a dagger in his belly, the hurt would've been less.

Anger, pain, betrayal played across her face as she said brokenly, "It was you…it's always been you. Oh my God, at your village….you started the fire for the trap…I always told myself I was imagining things. When the witch hunter tried to kill me…the dagger was you…my every plan failed because of you."

"Yes," he said tonelessly. Every word she said was true.

"How long? How long have you known you had magic?" she said hoarsely.

He could've lied. But lies had already caused too much pain between them. Truth, he'd spill it all, until every last moniker of certainty was gone. He didn't' want to hide anymore. "I was born like this. Since I came to Camelot, I've studied magic and increased my power, but most of it is innate."

She literally flinched at his words. Then taking a deep shuddering breath and she said, "Why, why would you hide that from me? Why would you…turn me away in that moment? Don't you see what you've done to me? Why are you destroying magic? Why are you?"

Grabbing her face in his hands, careful of her wound, he said fervently, "I made a mistake that night. I've regretted it ever since…every moment in your presence afterwards I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say every word that I'd denied to you. I wanted to tell you that you weren't alone. That magic was a gift to be used for the good of humanity. And that I knew because I had magic too. And I would've told you. But you were turning away from us so quickly. Morgause and her prospects….it was too soon for me to trust you. And then I couldn't. I'd been…warned and while I didn't want to believe it…I had to."

She pulled and said, "So I was supposed to trust you with my magic but you couldn't give me the same benefit?"

Trying to make her understand, he said, "It's not the same. I'd been…warned away from you."

"By whom? Who could know such things about me?"

"Kilgarrah, the last dragon. He told me…what you'd become. Said you were the darkness to my light, the hatred to my love," he said truthfully.

She paused and then said, "And you believed him?" The sadness in her voice breaking his heart.

Gently, he said, "Not at first. But then you started to change and then I couldn't deny it. I told him time and again he was wrong. That you had a good heart. That you were loyal and kind, that you wouldn't do anything to hurt Arthur or Camelot. But then you proved me wrong."

Angry, she turned back to face him, "Don't make this about me. You poisoned me. You pushed me down the stairs….with magic. And if you didn't hurt me with hemlock or a tumble down the stairs, it was with distrust and denial."

Contrite, he said, "He said I should."

"Should what?" she snapped.

He sighed and said, "Kill you. Let you die."

"The poison? He told you to do that?"

"Yes. It was the only solution."

A few tears fell down her cheeks, but she roughly brushed them away, "So killing me was the only solution to your problem? How gladdened you must've felt to know that I trusted you, that I thought you a good friend. Did you ever think Merlin that had I known I might've drank the poison willingly? That I cared enough about Camelot to end my own life to save yours? To save everyone's?

"No," he said, looking away ashamed. He'd never thought of that.

"No, of course you didn't. You were all too happy to leave me in the dark about everything. Your motives, your place in Camelot, your magic."

"Do you know how hard that was for me? To poison you? To deny you? All I've ever wanted from anyone was for them to see the real me. And from the first instant I realized that we shared the same bond of magic, I knew that I wanted you to see it most of all," he countered.

Then grabbing her hand and forcing her to meet his gaze, he said, "Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me that from the first moment our eyes met in the great hall, you didn't feel something more powerful than yourself. Magic, that's what I felt. The counterpoint to everything that makes up the fabric of my very being. The power, the rage, the passion, we share that. We're the same, you and me."

She pulled her hand from his and stood. He followed suit. "What does it matter now? What does it matter that we're the same? You lied to me, denied me something I needed at the most vulnerable moment of my life. You've made us enemies. What was it the dragon told you? I'm the darkness to you light, I'm the hatred to your love. We can't be the same," she finished.

He looked at her proud and tightly drawn face and felt a moment of déjà vu as he softly said, "It doesn't have to be like that. We can find another way."

She silently looked in his eyes and said softly, gently, "I told you before, there is no other way." Only this time her eyes were sad, not hard. She was frowning, not smirking.

"Yeah? Well, what's your way gotten you? Several near death experiences? The scorn of your oldest friends? And now, we're here together both under Orsric's thumb," he said.

He sighed as he seated himself on the bench. "After all this time, after everything we've both done, I was never able to learn Kilgarrah's most important lesson- to stop seeing the good in people. Even after all that's happened between us, I wanted to stop, wanted to hate you…but you've always managed to get under my skin. We're the same, you and me. Those visions you saw? We're at a crossroads. Go one way and you'll end up killing us all. Go the other and you'll end up with everything you could ever want. A child, a family, a position of power in Camelot's court."

"What if I don't want those things anymore?" she said.

"That's a lie and you know it. I see it in your eyes. We want the same things: a return of magic to Camelot.

"Not in the same way! You're content to wait on the sidelines for that moment to arrive. I want to bring it about," she said.

"Arthur is the key. If we don't protect Arthur, it won't happen," he said vehemently.

"I can make it happen. I can return magic to the realm," she said emphatically.

"Yes, but at what cost? Morgana, you're a fierce and powerful woman, but you don't have the patience to be Queen. You can't unite Albion. Only Arthur can. Magic might be returned to the realm, but it won't be for long under your rule. This isn't your destiny," he said.

"Well then what is my destiny pray tell? To be Orsric's wife? Or to be a social pariah in my home? Or to die at my half-brother's hand?."

He stood and faced her. "No matter what Kilgarrah says, we choose our own destiny, Morgana. I know that now. And you've been trudging a path that's not your own for too long."

She turned away and said softly, "You can't save me, Merlin. It doesn't work like that."

He grabbed her arm and spun her towards him, "Who says it's you I'm trying to save? I can't…go on like this." His voice broke on the last phrase. "I've lost so much already. My father, Freya, I can't lose you too. I can't be your doom. Is it too much to ask that you forgive me? Forgive me for the poisoning, for lying to you? I'm begging for your forgiveness, begging for your understanding. I've done terrible things, I know. Horrible things to you. But I want to start again, I want us to be together. I want those things so much. We can build the Camelot we want at Arthur's side. If we're together, anything's possible."

"How can I be sure? How can I ever trust you again?"

"Because you can. Because you want to. This isn't you, Morgana. This role you're playing, it's not who you really are. Remember what you told me, 'I know who I am now, and it's not something to be afraid of.' I'm not afraid of the real you either. But the face I see now frightens me. Because what I see now is Morgause, not you."

"What about our people? All those people who will die under Uther's rule? What of them? We have the power. Aren't you sick of being Arthur's servant? Sick of being unappreciated?" she said.

"Just because you can rule, doesn't mean you should. Just because you have power, doesn't mean that you're the right person to wield it. With gifts like ours, we have a responsibility to everyone, not just our own people. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good.."

"Has that comforted you at night? Has that cleared your conscience? Did that made it easier for you to poison me?" she asked stoutly.

Holding her gaze, he said, "No. My conscience hasn't been clear since the day. Because I made a mistake. Because I should've known you were never something I could sacrifice. I've tried living without you, tried hating everything you've become. But I can't go on. We're meant to be together. We're meant to work for the good together. We have a chance, Morgana. Not just you but me.

"How can you make promises like that? How can we build a life with a past like ours? Too much has already been done. What about me? Are you saying you can forgive me? Forgive me for killing Camelot's citizens? For trying my damnest to kill you? What about Gwen and Arthur? Can you forgive me that?"

"Yes, as long as we're together, I can forgive you the past," he said unhesitant.

"Well, you shouldn't. How do you know I won't do the same things again?"

"I know you. I trust you. You have a good heart. I've always wanted to trust you. You have my secret and I'm at your mercy. Isn't that what you've wanted?"

"You didn't even have the courage to tell me yourself. Orsric's the reason I found out. It wasn't willingly given," she said sadly.

"I know," he said softly.

"So you're saying you would've told me?" she asked. Silence greeted her and she turned away again, "That's what I thought.

He walked around to face her, "I've wanted to tell you. So many times I came close. Every minute that we've shared here has brought me closer to that moment. But I couldn't be sure."

"And you're sure now?"

He grabbed both of hands in his as he leveled his face with hers."Yes. Because I love you. Because I can't live without you. Kilgarrah once told me that Arthur and I were two sides of the same coin. And we are. But so are you and I. We're two sides of the same coin."

She was silent but didn't remove her hands. "And what about Arthur? You can't think he'll ever forgive me," she said.

"He will. In time. I'll convince him. Look, he doesn't matter. Nothing else matters in this moment but you and me. Forget the rest of the world, forget Morgause and Arthur, and Camelot, forget our damn destinies-what do you want?" he asked beseechingly.

She tore her gaze and hands away. Putting her hand to her head, she began to pace. "I don't know. It's just…too much to take in. You bring my entire understanding of you and of me, and of those moments in Camelot down around my ears. Then you expect me to what? Run away with you? In case you haven't forgotten we're still in Orsric's dungeon and he's likely going to kill you then marry me," she finished, indicating the space around them.

"I don't care where we are. My feelings for you won't change. I'm done fighting everyone's expectations, everyone else's interference. I want you. I love you. That's enough for me," he said.

He pulled her into his arms. Then he placed her hand flat against the left side of his chest and covered it with his own. "Feel that? My heart beats for you." Taking a long deep breath, he continued in a whisper, "Hear that? I breathe for you. Be angry. Lash out. But don't make the same mistake I made, Morgana. Please, I beg of you, don't deny me the one thing I need."

"And what's that?" she breathed, their faces close together, their gaze locked.

"You. Just you," he whispered desperately.

**FINIS**

**More to come. We're so not done. I hope that this chapter met with expectations. I tried to take into consideration all the possibilities, all the secrets that Merlin kept from her. Please review! I'd love to hear what you think. **


	19. We Hide Within Our Veins

**Chapter 19**

_We love in secret names_

_We hide within our veins_

_The things that keep us bound to one another_

_There is a secret that we keep_

_I won't sleep if you won't sleep_

_Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given_

_We are compelled to do what we must do_

_We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden_

"The Secret's in the Telling" by Dashboard Confessional

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the naked emotion in the blue depths. She felt the increased pounding of his heart beating just below her fingertips.

She didn't know what to say. Everything had changed. Every illusion, assumption, every understanding was suddenly gone. Words utterly failed her. What did she want? What was she to do? A chance, Merlin had said, a chance to be different, to be better. Was that even something she wanted? Did she still have a good heart?

Merlin's faith in her…his love…that word…that desperation, it was all so humbling. He could forgive her actions? Forgive her past if they were together? Even in the secret recesses of her heart, she'd never dreamed of such a gift. Her path had always seemed so set, so direct, with no place to turn around. And here Merlin was, offering her a chance, offering her a change.

And yet she was so very angry with him. Denial, more than anything was the worst of his sins. The isolation of Camelot had nearly driven her mad. And all along her closest friend, her most trusted confidant had been able to ease every feeling of loneliness she had. When she thought of that part of her life, saw it now with the illumination of truth, she could almost hate him. Almost.

She should say something, she should answer his initial question: what did she want? But as their breathes mingled, as she felt herself suck in the heated air borne from his very lungs, she didn't have any words to say. Because all she wanted to do was feel. For too long she'd denied emotions, feelings, kept everything buried in a box deep inside of her chest for some person or purpose. For Morgause. For Uther. For Camelot. For power.

She still didn't know what to think or what to do with all of Merlin's secrets and revelations. But she knew what she wanted. So she did it-crashed her lips into his.

The kiss was different than any of the previous ones. This one was powerful. Poignant. Tender, gentle, aching, as if the lips that formed words were battling to show that the heated spark between their pressed lips could be just as powerful.

And it was. They ravished each other. Devoured with tongues, lips, and teeth. Her arms curved under his armpits, pulling his body further into hers. Clinging for strength and giving into the bliss of his warmth, his passion, his love.

Not breaking the kiss, they both knelt to the floor. His thumb massaged her jaw as she tilted her head. His hands roamed her back freely, sweeping down the column of her spine, sliding over her bottom, even slipping down the backs of her thighs.

She was already wet. Her body familiar with the pleasures that Merlin's nimble hands could give. His hands plucked at the laces of the gown, hastily loosening the tight fabric and pulling down the sleeve to reveal her creamy shoulder.

His mouth immediately made a path down her neck, pausing only when she tugged his shirt over his head.

Returning to her neck, he cradled her head in his hand, running his fingers over her scalp as he found a particularly sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. She moaned loudly. Mirroring his actions, she nibbled on his shoulder, laving the salty skin. He too groaned.

Naked. She wanted to be naked. Wanted them both divested of the final barriers between them. As if reading her mind, he pushed the loosened gown and chemise down to her waist. She was naked from the waist up.

He pulled back and she saw his eyes widen as his eyes feasted on her bared chest. His large hands, so pale like hers, reverently cupped her full breasts in his hands. The sensation was so arousing. Her nipples were already taut with arousal, but puckered even more against his calloused palms.

He gently urged her to lie back on their makeshift bed. Orsric in his "kindness" had ordered the guards to give her adequate bedding. A few thick velvet blankets and some silken sheets had been provided for the straw. Her naked back met velvet as he quickly pulled the rest of the gown off.

Clad only in her drawers and stockings, she felt a bit shy, but Merlin's heated gaze held hers as he stretched out next to her.

"I've imagined you like this…so many times. So many nights laying in my bed at Camelot with you a few floors up or even missing…but even my fevered brain couldn't conjure such perfection," he whispered hoarsely, his hand tracing down her side. She felt his hand tremble and his strong response was intoxicating.

She arched into his waiting hands, as he continued his earlier caresses. His mouth clamped down on her left nipple and she cried out. Each tug of his mouth shot bolts of pleasure straight to her burning core. Moving to her other nipple, he gave it the same torturous treatment. Her breath came in soft gasps as every nerve was flooded with pleasure.

His body was hard next to hers. He rubbed his erection against her hip, showing her just how much her pleasure aroused him. His mouth moved down, pressing hot, opened mouthed kisses against her quivering belly. He shifted to kneel between her widened legs, his hands making quick work of her drawers. Lifting her leg onto his shoulder, he slowly began to peel off her stocking. As the stocking cleared her kneel, his mouth feasted on the delicate skin he'd just exposed. His hot breath wafted against her kneecap as he pressed warm kisses to the skin. Softly licking a path up her inner thigh, his mouth avoided the place where she needed it the most. And just when she thought he'd do something really scandalous, he moved to the other leg. His fingers teasingly pushed down her right stocking, his lips ghosting over the skin above her knee.

His thumbs slid down her inner thighs, parting her thighs. She quaked at the exposure and his carnal caresses, but her body was squirming with anticipation, ready to explode at the slightest touch. His thumb then swept her damp crevice and she arched further into his hand with a moan.

His mouth moved closer and closer to the part of her that ached so much. Then scandalously, he pressed his mouth right against her mound. She was too aroused to be embarrassed as she let out a throaty moan and hoarsely begged for more.

And he gave it. Lips, tongue, even teeth joined the fray, all intent on one thing: her absolute surrender to pleasure. Every lap of his eager tongue, every brush of his hot lips sent her closer and closer to that bliss, that place of pleasure. She arched into his body, her hands shamelessly holding his head against her body.

Then white hot heat hit her, so quickly she nearly screamed. Gasps tore from her throat as she rode his mouth.

With a final soft kiss, he pushed himself up to gaze at her flushed body. Her chest heaved with the recent climax. She reached for the buttons on his breeches, already feeling his hardness against her hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked as she undid the last button and started on his drawers.

"Yes," she breathed, pushing the last barriers between them down. Words weren't enough anymore, even the beautiful ones Merlin had spouted. Words had already done cruel things to them, hurt and maimed, broken and taken. Actions always spoke louder than words.

She opened her arms and he willingly went into them.

His hot skin slid against hers and the feeling was indescribable. She widened her thighs and he settled into the cradle of her body. His hardened member brushed against her wetness. She quaked in response. Not in nervousness or fear, but in anticipation. Her body was ready for him. She'd waited a lifetime for this moment.

But as the reality of it all, the emotion of the moment came over her, an errant thought came to mind.

"Have you..?" she trailed off awkwardly.

"No. Never," he said fervently, meeting her eyes. "Only you."

Positioning himself at her entrance, he slowly began to push into her tightness. It was uncomfortable but not overly painful. She saw his jaw tighten as their bodies came together, as he filled her. Finally, with a quick push, he was fully embedded inside her. She gasped and he groaned as their bodies finally fused together. Their gazes had held the entire time.

As she looked into Merlin's eyes, she realized it was like magic. The feeling, the power, the elemental connection. That's what exactly this felt like.

He cupped her head in his hands as he gently kissed her. Slowly he withdrew his body and then pushed it back in. She arched into his, raising her hips to bring him a little deeper. The consistent pull and push of their actions soon found a rhythm , on that had her skin heating, her body straining towards that same release.

Only this time, she wasn't alone. Her pleasure was his, his pleasure was hers. Every groan, every moan, every motion, she felt and knew he felt it too.

She didn't know it could be like this, that she could be like this. She'd searched for connection for so long, had tried to find it in other relationships, in other achievements.

But this was the fulfillment she'd desired. The fulfillment, the promise of something so consuming, she felt like her skin could barely contain the emotions flooding her.

He wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing for his body to hit the sensitive spot near the top of her mound. She moaned as heat spread through her body. She was close, so close to the edge.

With a deep thrust, he ground his body into hers and she flew over the edge. "Oh…Merlin," she gasped out as she curled her arms tighter around his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "Merlin….Merlin…oh God!"

Stars were in her eyes as bolts of pleasure skittered through every inch of her body.

She heard him choke out her name as his body stiffed inside her, giving a final thrust and filling her body with a burst of heat.

She couldn't catch her breath. Her lungs seemed unable to pull enough air to fill them. Merlin too panted above her, his head buried in her shoulder, his hot breath blowing against her neck.

She ran her hands down his back soothingly, as he rubbed circles on the back of her neck.

There weren't words. Nothing could follow such an intense and cataclysmic experience. She felt altered. Certainly, the loss of her virginity was an important experience, but it was more than that.

Intimacy. Love. Words, emotions so frightening, she'd shied away from them for years.

But here, in this makeshift bed with her once enemy's body softening within her, his hands and mouth having explored every inch of her body, they didn't seem so frightening.

It seemed right. Perfect. Like her soul was suddenly reunited with their mate.

But she wasn't ready to say that. Wasn't ready to name the emotions she was feeling.

So instead she said nothing.

There were no more secrets between them. No more barriers. Every last one was gone.

But words, those figurative symbols of emotions so deep, she would keep. So her words remained painfully quiet, buried in her exposed soul, buried in her unfrozen heart.

**FINIS**

**Don't worry, folks, we will have a happy ending. But love-making doesn't solve everything, particularly between these two. It's certainly brought them closer, and even brought Morgana closer to some of the emotions, the feelings, she's denied for so long. But we still have Morgause to contend with. Please review!**


	20. Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

**Authorial Confessions:**

**1. I've broken down and started to watch Merlin S4 through YouTube. All the excitement, humor, and emotion literally gave me a stitch in the side. I'm currently up to episode 8. So. Damn. Good. **

**2. A few years ago, when I first started watching Merlin, I actually dyed my hair black because of Morgana. Even bought one of those "wave maker" irons to give it that sexy wave look. I have green eyes, pale skin, and some curves, so I thought it might work. Sadly, no amount of hair dye and beauty supplies can make me Katie McGrath. **

**3. As I near the final days of writing my dissertation chapter, I've decided to take the "Templar" route and stifle any sexual temptation. The philosophy behind such actions being that sexual release saps creative virility. You can imagine that it made this chapter particularly difficult to write. And yes, I'm still the queen of my castle. **

**Enjoy !**

_These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph, die,_

_like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume._

-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

**Chapter 20**

He woke at dawn with her naked body cuddled up against his side, her hair spilling onto his chest, her legs tangled with his.

Her dainty arm was thrown over his chest, holding him to her.

So it hadn't been a dream. Or some dungeon induced manifestation of his darkest fantasies. It was real, glaringly real. He'd told her about all of his secrets and they'd made love.

And it had been incredible.

He never thought of himself as someone to save his virginity for some abstract ideal of female perfection. Nor was he one to just throw it away on some indiscriminate liaison. He'd met women in the taverns or serving girls who had certainly shown an interest in more intimate encounters. But beyond a kiss or two, he'd never gone that far before. Indeed, he always figured that when the right woman came along, someone he loved, it would just happen. And last night, it had.

He still couldn't believe it. The intimacy of it all, the intensity had been so powerful. Looking into her eyes, feeling their bodies slide together as one…it had been beyond words, magical or otherwise. It was elemental. Pure. Right. When he'd ever let himself dare to think on this, he'd thought it would be some like some raging inferno. Hot and angry. Aggressive.

And while it had been full of passion, it was more like a slow smolder than a brushfire. He didn't think he could feel that way. Didn't know the human body had that much capacity for love.

He hadn't meant to speak of his love. But her vulnerability had undone him. He was used to seeing her as an indestructible force, a powerful enemy who had few flaws and fewer morals. And while these last few days had shown the cracks in that armor, it wasn't until she'd shown him such aching vulnerability that he'd been able to say the words. Had needed to say the words.

He wanted her to know of his trust, his faith in her goodness. Faith that had been tested and broken so many times before. But now, this one last time, it didn't feel so hard. Maybe others would think him foolish, naïve even to believe that this last time Morgana could be all she was before. That she would be worthy of his love, of his faith in her.

But he knew she was.

He'd spilled all his secrets. Now it was time for her to decide her own fate.

She stirred next to him, her head snuggling further into his shoulder. Letting out a contented little moan, she began to flutter her eyes.

He saw her eyes widen for a moment as all the sensations, all the memories flooded back. But she didn't remove her arm from around him or pull away.

He smiled softly at her residual shock and said "Morning."

She tentatively returned his smile and said, "Morning."

Their eyes met and held. He felt the irrevocable pull, the same intense tug that had fueled last night's activities that made every moment so incredibly special. He leaned in, bringing their lips closer, and finally uniting them once again. Electricity pulsed between them as she pulled his head closer to hers.

His hands tangled in her hair and slid over her silky shoulders. He couldn't stop touching her, the feel of her skin was intoxicating. Urging more of her weight onto him, he groaned when he felt her hard nipples press against the side of his chest.

"Someone's a little eager this morning," she whispered against his neck as she nudged her knee gently against his very awake body.

All he could manage in response was a moan. He'd been eager since before he woke up. Her silky skin pressed against him was more than a little arousing.

Her lips trailed down to his chest and she whispered, "Turnabout's fair play, don't you think?"

Her bare breasts brushed against his stomach as her hair slid over his skin. Her mouth was pure torture, laving and sucking on one of his flat nipples. He gasped at the sensation, so foreign and so erotic. She was innocent and yet so bold. So curious, and it was driving him insane. He couldn't get used to her touch, her hands were sliding over his body, branding him with her touch. Soft one minute, a little harder the next. He was jumping out of his skin as she trailed her mouth over his chest and then down his stomach. Surely she couldn't mean to…surely she didn't know how…

But of course she did, her pink tongue tentatively flicked out to taste him. He nearly came at that moment. The image so erotic, the feel of her lips fulfilling even his darkest fantasies. She experimented by pressing kisses along his shaft, lingering when she heard him moan. Her lips slid against the sensitive skin, caressing him with her parted silken mouth.

He was mindless with pleasure. His whole body drawn taut under her soft caresses.

How many nights had he spent in conjuring up such images to take the edge off his hunger? How many hours had he avoided looking at her smirking red mouth so as to banish thoughts of her soft lips wrapped around his…

"Oh God," he managed as she finally wrapped her mouth around the head of his shaft. And now it was happening. Freely. Without hesitation, without seduction. Because she was seducing him, although she'd done so since he'd first seen her in Camelot.

She worked her deliciously wet mouth down to the very root of him, taking as much of him as possible into her mouth. Dragging her lips slowly up, she started to bob her head again. The pleasure was intense, He was grabbing fistfuls of the velvet coverlet, arching as if being drawn on a rack. Only her torture wasn't painful, it was downright soul wrenching.

He was so close to letting go, so close to exploding in her mouth. But not yet, he wanted to be inside her. Wanted to share the pleasure.

"Together," he managed to say pant out.

Drawing her head up and off his aching shaft, he softly pulled her head up to his. Every inch of her soft skin slithered up his, her hips coming to rest just against his. Their gazes locked. Her eyes were half lidded with arousal. But he wanted her mindless with desire, as desperate and aching as he now was. Lifting himself onto his elbows and leveling his body against the pillows, he took her arms and placed her hands on the wall behind them. Sliding his hands down her arms, he smirked as she realized exactly what the position afforded him. Her breast hung right in his face and he didn't waste a moment in pleasuring her. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he buried his head between the sweetly plump flesh. She smelled so good. Like vanilla and something so intrinsically amazing that it would only be qualified as Morgana. Eager to taste her, he drew the tight pearl of her nipple into his mouth and sucked. He felt her shudder over him as her head fell back. Flicking his tongue again and again, he used his teeth to nibble. Moving to her left nipple, he gave that one the same treatment, hoping to drive her wild.

Last night had been shrouded in darkness. He could see well enough once his eyes adjusted, but nothing compared to the vision of Morgana's naked body revealed by the rays of the dawning sun. While her skin was luminously pale in the moonlight, she was made to be seen in bright day. The shades of her body, the most delicate pinks and deepest reds, weren't made for moonlight.

Her springy curls and dampness rubbed right against his hard cock. Using his body, he increased the friction, sliding his body right against her in a rhythmic motion.

"Please…" she begged as she rocked against him. Her pleas were hoarse. Moving his hands down to settle on her tiny waist, he lifted her up and placed himself right at her entrance. Her eyes widened at the position but understanding dawned and ,she slowly shimmied her way down, engulfing him in her heat.

He gasped out as the weight of her body settled and buried his entire length in warmth. She began to move, a slow lift and then a quick slide. She was a goddess, a mythical creature of which he'd never read. Aphrodite. Lady Godiva. The streaming jet black of her hair flowing over her shoulders, her lily white skin shining, the beautiful red of her bouncing breasts, and panting lips. It was the stuff of legends, of myths. If he didn't feel the heat, the fire that rose between them, he'd think he imagined the whole situation.

Her body came down harder and harder on his, taking him as deep as she possibly could. He arched into her, burying himself over and over in her heat, over and over in her softness. Her body made tight figure eights against his, riding him, creating more friction between their joined bodies.

He felt her body tighten around his, felt her inner walls clamp around him. She was moaning considerably now, his name falling freely from her lips. He felt himself climb higher and higher. He was so aroused. So desperate to relieve the ache that burned deep within his body.

But it was only when he felt her movements become rigid, when he heard her gasp out his name, her back arching as her body bore down on him length, did he let go.

"Merlin," she said, keeling his name breathlessly as she rode out her climax.

He gave one final thrust and spilled his seed deep inside her. The pleasure was intense, making his toes curl. He couldn't stop saying her name. Breathing the syllables through his clenched teeth. "Morgana….Morgana…Morgana…" he whispered. Their eyes met and he read the words she wouldn't say, read in the jade depths the very goodness he'd always wanted to see in her again.

He never thought of himself as a possessive person. When you had very little, particularly in such a chaotic world, you couldn't really afford to get attached to things, to possessions. And Morgana certainly wasn't a possession….and yet he wanted her to be his. _Mine_, his brain screamed as they floated in the blissful glow of post-love making, _mine._ He smoothed his hands over her damp back, holding her body to his. Never wanting to let go. _Mine._

He'd never coveted anything before. Never thought of something as exclusively his. But he wanted that from her. Wanted her to admit that she was his. Because he'd long ago lost himself in her, long ago given her the one thing he as a manservant could own: his heart.

And in those moments she had been his and he had been hers. And as the rush of love making finally cooled from their bodies and she maneuvered to cuddle against his side, he couldn't help but feel some pleasure that something, anything of his was now in her. His seed. The physical representation of the pleasure they'd shared, the pleasure she'd wrenched from his body. Maybe it was crass to think on his seed buried deep inside her, but she'd taken so much from him. Had invaded him, penetrated his soul. Was it wrong that he wanted her to feel something of his? This moment they had shared. Their virginity they had lost. His seed had been spilt.

It was enough. For now.

She sat up, holding the velvet coverlet to her naked chest. Spotting her chemise on his side, he grabbed it and handed it to her.

"You don't regret it, do you?" he asked as their fingers brushing as she took the garment.

"No, of course not. It was wonderful. Both times," she said, smiling. Pulling her chemise over her head, she continued, avoiding his eyes, " But it doesn't change anything. I'm still confused, I'm still uncertain if I can trust you."

"So you can trust me with your virginity but not your heart?" he asked a bit petulantly as he too began to dress.

She didn't answer, focusing entirely too much on pulling her gown over her head.

Tenderly, he took her face in his hands and made her meet his gaze, "You can be queen if you want. All you have to do is marry Orsric and you can have those ambitions. But if you want something better, something different, I'll be there. If you can abandon your struggle for power and align yourself with Camelot, I'll be your man. I'll love you for the rest of my life. I'll give you a whole parcel of dark haired children. We'll be Arthur's most trusted advisors. You'll never be alone again. We can usher in a new world, one of tolerance and love, not hatred and secrecy."

She placed her hands over his hands on her face and said, "I just…I don't know what I want. It's all happened so quick, how do you expect me to give an answer?"

Understanding, he said, coaxing her to face away so he could lace her gown, "Just think about it, alright? I don't expect an answer now."

"What do you mean?" she said, turning to look over her shoulder.

A sudden idea struck him. Time, she needed time. He could give that to her. "How about in six weeks? Arthur's birthday, remember? Meet me outside the city. By the lake at dawn."

"How do you even know you'll be alive then?" she asked.

"I'll get out of here. Or Arthur will rescue me. They don't know I have magic, remember?" he said.

With a look of intent, he continued, "Look, come hell or high water, I'll be there. The question is will you?"

**FINIS**

**Hot lovin', hot lovin'. Didn't see that coming, did you?**

**For the record, I totally planned the Arthur's birthday bit before seeing S4's "The Wicked Day". Maybe I have powers like Morgana's…..nah.**

**Please review!**


	21. Over the Threshold

**Thanks for the reviews! I've had a terrible and busy couple of days. Although I did finish S4, as epic as everyone promised. I actually liked Morgana more this season than last. Aside from the fact that her makeup was MUCH better (really, do we need all the eyeliner to make us realize she's gone bad?), there was something a little more...vulnerable about her. There were moments throughout where she seemed more human than we've seen since S2. Maybe that's wishful thinking, but I liked the more genuine emotions of fear, anxiety, hate, resentment. Less smirking villian (still a villian, of course), more complicated foe. Katie McGrath and I both think there's room for redemption. Let's pray it's not some deathbed turnaround. Who doesn't want some Mergana action? Seriously, the writers need to get onboard. Helios and Agravaine are not suitable partners. And Merlin needs some lovin'. Badly. (cue dramatic sigh)**

**Chapter 21**

She felt her mouth open as she tried to put a word, any word through her parted lips. It seemed so easy. Yes or no. One short syllable that would break his heart or end his misery.

Yes, and she would go back to Camelot. Arthur, her brother, would decide her fate, decide how long her life would be. But if he forgave her, she could live there, distrusted at first, but maybe eventually accepted. An asset rather than a threat. She could earn back the people's love, make them see that she wasn't a monster. Merlin would be at her side. He'd love her, protect her, tutor her in magic. They could be a team, build a life together in Camelot, be the power behind Arthur's kingdom.

No, and she'd be with her sister again. She's have a chance at Camelot's throne, a chance to instantly change the fate of her people. Not just for herself, but for Merlin too. She could hold the power, make the decisions, be a leader like she always wanted, rather than an ornamental doll put on display.

Although Merlin wouldn't do that to her. Merlin who saw all the parts of her, the good and the bad. And Merlin who had lied to her for near on five years. Merlin who had poisoned her when necessary.

She felt tugged in so many directions. One word. One moment. One decision that would change the rest of her life. Because, he was right, after this there was no going back, no changes. He'd never forgive her for turning against Camelot again. But could she ever forgive herself for giving up her position? For not returning magic to the realm?

She looked into his deep blue eyes, eyes that showed such compassion, such anxiety. Such open honesty. He was waiting for some semblance of an answer.

But she couldn't give it. Not now.

The clink of the lock at the door saved her from choosing or promising something she couldn't quite decide. They drew apart, uncertain of who or what lurked on the other side of that lock.

The door opened and a hooded figure walked into the center of the room. Tossing back the hood that hid her face, the woman's blonde hair and dark eyes were instantly distinguishable. Morgause had finally come.

"Sister," Morgana breathed as she ran into Morgause's open arms, the force of her hug nearly spinning them in a full circle. "I've missed you." And she meant it, the warm embrace of the only person who'd taken care of her these last few years was decidedly welcome. While she knew Morgause was powerful, Morgana had been worried about her fate at the hands of Orsric. But her sister appeared unharmed and hale.

Her eyes met Merlin's and she tried not to feel guilty. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She told him she needed more time. And his gaze wasn't accusatory in the slightest, merely steely. Concerned. He was worried about Morgause. Uncertain of her. It didn't stop her from feeling a the prickle of discomfort.

Drawing back, her sister asked, "Are you alright? You aren't harmed?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little scuffed up from the last few days here," she responded.

"Are you certain? What about that cut on your cheek? Did _he _do this to you?" Morgause asked, turning to glare at Merlin. "Well, well, well if it isn't our little crusader that could. Surprised to see me alive?"

"No," Merlin said flatly.

"It wasn't Merlin," Morgana said quickly. " Indeed, it was our generous host."

Turning back to Morgana, Morgause said sighing, "Orsric always did have a temper."

"You could say that," mumbled Merlin from behind her.

Quickly turning back to face Merlin, Morgause drawled, "I'm surprised to see you alive. Surprised my sister or Orsric hasn't killed you yet. But that can be quickly remedied." Turning to Morgana, she asked, "Should I dispose of him or would you like the honor?"

"No!" Morgana nearly shouted, then calmed her voice and said, "I mean, no, leave him to Orsric. He's more useful to our plans alive. Besides, I'm sure Orsric will exact every type of pain against him. Although I wonder…" She smirked the way she used to.

"Yes, sister?" said Morgause eagerly.

"Could I have a moment alone with the boy? I wouldn't mind giving him a little taste of the pain to come. There are a few…unsavory things I've been longing to do. I couldn't very well enact them before as we were locked here. But now that I'll be leaving…well, I would really like to complete those tasks," she finished with another smirk, hoping it was convincing.

Morgause smiled evilly and said, "Certainly. I'll be outside. Waiting to hear the screams."

As Morgause opened the door, she turned back and said, "Don't take too long with the boy. We've much to discuss."

"Oh, my plans won't take too long," said Morgana.

The sister exchanged another devious smile and then Morgause was gone from the room.

Merlin moved closer. "That was um kinda scary. I almost believed you were going to hurt me," he whispered a bit uneasily.

She smiled, a true and genuine smile, not like the pathetic show she'd just put on and said, "As you've said, I'm a good actress."

She frowned. "Merlin, I-"

"Shhh," he said, nodding his head towards the door. "Ow, oh my God, it hurts so much!

Understanding, she shouted, "I hate you, you toad faced bastard! I hope you burn in hell for all the crimes you've committed against my kind!"

"Impressive," he whispered. Then shouting, "No, Morgana. No, don't punch me there. Owwph."

He smiled that lazy, adorable smile. The one that was so boyish and charming, the one that had melted her when she was a princess and he was a servant. She couldn't help but drawn him quickly into her embrace. Their lips met in a fusion of heat and passion. It tasted of longing. Of promise. But also of goodbye. She wanted to believe that everything would be alright. That she could make a choice, that Merlin could get out of this place, that her life could be uncomplicated.

But that seemed unlikely. So she let herself live in this moment. Live in the touch between their lips as he ravished her mouth, making her forget all of the complications. All the reasons this couldn't be and yet was.

She pulled away, breathless. She was dazed. But Merlin had the presence of mind to shout over her shoulder, "Please don't hurt me. Not again. It's so painful. Owwwww."

He met her eyes again. "Trust me, just this once. And I'll trust you," he whispered, his hands stroking her face.

"I don't know if I can," she breathed.

"Trust in us, trust in our love. This is your only chance, Morgana, your only chance to get off this path that will surely lead to your doom. Just think about it, alright? Question Morgause, question yourself, question what you want. Because after this, there might not be another chance to go back."

She didn't say anything because she didn't have an answer.

They both knew that their time together was ending. She was reluctant to leave the warm shelter of his embrace. Once she left this room, this terrible space that had revealed so much, things would change. But they couldn't stay here forever and they both knew that. Who ever thought she'd be so reluctant to leave this dirty dungeon?

Merlin understood her dilemma but they both knew she had to get out before Morgause became suspicious. "You better slap me now. And make it convincing," he whispered, giving her one final soft kiss.

"How dare you treat me in such cavalier manner! I hope Orsric makes you die a slow and painful death!" she said loudly enough to carry through the door. And then there was a loud crack as her hand made contact with his cheek. She gave him a contrite look as she made for the door. Her feet felt leaden. Every step heavy as she walked closer to the exit. It shouldn't feel like this but it did. Freedom beckoned but it seemed somehow hollow.

"Dawn on Arthur's birthday, remember?" he whispered, rubbing the tender and reddened side of his face.

She gave him a tentative nod. It wasn't affirmation or rejection, just that she understood that's where they were to meet. She opened the door slightly.

She couldn't resist one final look back. Merlin gazed at her, all the love, the faith, all the promise of a future in his eyes. She felt a tug somewhere in the vicinity of her heart and drew a sharp breath. The ache didn't stop. She feared it might never subside.

And with one final look, she broke the connection. Stepping through the threshold, she was finally free from the prison that had held her for several days.

The door was slammed behind her and Morgause quickly looped her arm through hers. "Come, sister. We have much to discuss," she said with a smile.

**FINIS**

**So Morgana's gone from the dungeon, will Merlin get out?**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Please review!**


	22. Escape, part deux

**Chapter 22**

It was a far cry from the dungeon.

The two women were settled in a sumptuous suite in Orsric's castle. Sunlight streamed through the large windows. It was midday and they'd just finished lunch in the room.

Morgause had abstained from asking questions or answering them until they were finished eating.

Seated in two high back chairs next to the fireplace, Morgause asked, "The boy didn't hurt you, did he?"

Surprised by the question, Morgana quickly replied, "No, he was just rude and incredibly annoying. No harm whatsoever." Conscious of her role and the last interlude her sister knew of, she said, "Although I can't say the same for him."

"I understand. A boy like that is nothing but a nuisance. We'll make sure Orsric uses him and then he'll dispose of him," said Morgause.

"How did you manage to avoid his wrath? He seemed rather intent on killing you," said Morgana.

With a quick smile, Morgause started, "That he was. Although Orsric is shrewd. He knew that with me on his side, we'd have a much better chance of taking Camelot. Besides, we have something that he wants."

"What do you mean?" asked Morgana. Did Morgause have another plan up her sleeve? Some other weapon that would work against Camelot? Her sister's creativity was endless.

Smiling, Morgause replied, "Why, you, my dear."

"Me? Yes, I'm well aware that Orsric wants me. My body, my position, my freedom," Morgana said with a snort.

"Don't be dramatic, Morgana. We need Orsric. Besides, he's proposed marriage, hasn't he?"

"If you call that a proposal," she mumbled.

"It doesn't matter. We've agreed to it. You're to marry Orsric and he's to help us takeover Camelot," Morgause said with a hint of anger in her voice.

Stunned by Morgause's pronouncement, she replied, "You must be kidding. Have you seen my cheek?" She pointed to the barely scabbed over cut on her face.

Morgause gave a dismissive wave of her hand, "You're a witch, I'm sure you can take care of yourself."

Outraged at her sister's lack of reaction, she said angrily, "He's a brute. And a bastard. There's no way in hell I'll marry him. "

"So you want to give up our plans for Camelot?" said Morgause.

She hesitated for a split second. Merlin had asked the same thing of her earlier. "Of course not, but there must be some other way. Some way that doesn't include me selling my body and soul to a tyrant like Orsric," she said.

Sighing, her sister gave her a patronizing look as if dealing with a child. "Morgana, we depend on our allies to help us. You might be a princess, but you're a dethroned one at best. Currently we have no army, no capital, and no prospects. There's only so much our magic can do."

"I know, but there must be something else, some other plan that will work," Morgana said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. She thought Morgause would be on her side, would never force her to do something so distasteful.

Morgause's eyes narrowed and she asked suspiciously, "Why are you so reluctant to marry Orsric? What is it that you're not telling me?"

"Nothing, I'm telling you everything," Morgana said quickly. "He's a bastard and I hate him, that's why. I can't believe that you would so easily dismiss his treatment of me."

"I'm trying to see the larger picture here, Morgana. Marry him, use him to regain your rightful place, then kill him. It's really a simple procedure, one I've used many a time," said Morgause with a secretive smile. .

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her sister wanted her to marry Orsric? To ignore all the red flags? For what? "I can't marry Orsric," she said determinedly.

"And why not?" asked Morgause with an edge to her voice.

"I…I….," she started. What would put Morgause off? What would delay such an event or foil it forever? "I'm not chaste," she said uneasily. It was the truth. And given Orsric's lusty looks, it would likely be a huge problem.

"You're what?" asked Morgause incredulously.

"I'm not chaste. I'm not a virgin," Morgana said with growing confidence. It was the perfect excuse. "And I'm certain that my virginity is exactly what Orsric wants."

"Who? Was it that boy in the dungeon? Did he force himself on you? I swear, I'll kill him-" her sister started vehemently, rising just a bit from her chair.

It was a strange situation. Apparently it wasn't hard for her to imagine Orsric as Morgana's husband, but Merlin as a rapist? That seemed to be quite plausible to her sister. "Merlin? The boy doesn't have a sexual feeling in his body," she lied coolly.

"Well then who was it?" asked Morgause, settling herself once again in the chair with an angry stare.

Morgana searched for a name. Any name, anyone her sister might believe. Any name but the man who'd actually done the deed. "Alvarr. It was a long time ago. I was young and naïve. I'd just come into my magic and he was so kind. One thing led to another," she said, leaving the rest up in the air. It was vague enough and could've been true. Besides, Alvarr was far away, there was no way that Morgause could disprove her story.

"And you never told me of this?" said Morgause, again suspicious.

"I didn't think it mattered," said Morgana. And she meant it. Why should her sexual concerns be any business of her sister's? Although since her actual sexual encounters were tied explicably to Arthur's most trusted friend, she supposed that Morgause should know. But she wouldn't expose Merlin to Morgause's quick temper. Her sister was waiting for one wrong move on Merlin's part. And despite her confusion on their future, Morgana wouldn't give up her secret so easily. Not while Merlin was in danger.

"Considering it might foil my well crafted plan, I think it certainly matters here," said Morgause, rising to pace in front of the hearth. "What are we to do?" she said more to herself than anyone.

"Well, we can start with me not marrying Orsric," said Morgana vehemently.

"Have you heard nothing I've said? We need Orsric," said Morgause.

"Have you heard nothing _I've _said? I hate the man and refuse to marry him. Besides, my lack of virginity will be problematic."

"Do you know nothing of familial duty, Morgana? Nothing of loyalty or sacrifice? My life hangs in the balance here, Orsric and I struck a deal. You, in exchange for my life and another chance at Camelot. Do you want to see me killed?" said Morgause.

"No. But I don't want to put myself in the hands of a man like Orsric. How do you know he won't kill me on our wedding night when he finds out I'm not a virgin?" said Morgana with a determined lift of her chin. She wouldn't be guilted into marrying Morgause. It hadn't worked yesterday, it wouldn't work today. Morgause would think of something.

"Arthur has a birthday coming up, doesn't he?" asked Morgause.

"Yes," said Morgana warily, the sudden change in topic disconcerting. "In six weeks."

"Good, that'll give us plenty of time to prepare for an attack. We'll tell Orsric that you want to see if he can keep his promises. And that you desire Camelot as a wedding present. That _might _enable us to put Orsric off until then. Besides, once we take Camelot, you won't need a husband."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Orsric wasn't kind or patient, but maybe if they promised her full cooperation, he'd relent. Morgause continued, "You'll have to agree to be his bride though. It won't work if you look unwilling."

"Fine," said Morgana. "But not matter what, I won't go through with it. The last thing I need is another Uther in my life."

* * *

><p>Waiting was part of the torture, of that he knew. Men like Orsric got off as much on the physical pain they inflicted as the pain inflicted on one's mind.<p>

He'd spent the last few hours in the total darkness, jumping at every sound, unable to sleep for fear he'd wake up chained to a chair with a finger breaker on his extremities. He couldn't be certain they'd remove him from this room.

It was too dark. No moonlight shone through the barred window. Quiet. Too quiet actually. Morgana had taken all the light out of the room. If he wasn't so edgy, he would've found such an observation ironic given the _darkness to your light_ bit. Strange how things work out.

He felt his eyes droop once again. He was so tired. But needed to be awake. God knew when Orsric would come for him. And come he would.

Shaking his head, he tried to ignore the siren song of sleep. If Morgana were still here, he'd be cuddled up with her. Maybe they would've continued their earlier activities…maybe a third time was necessary…her body would be warm and open…

He must've fallen asleep, because he jolted awake at the sound of muffled voices in the hall and the sound of metal against metal as swords clashed. Suddenly, there was a scrape at the door then a squeak as the rusty lock was turned. He was on his feet, ready for whatever was on the other side of the door.

The door swung open to reveal a powerful warrior, his sword still drawn as he surveyed the room. As the meager light from the hallway shone on his face, Merlin immediately recognized him.

"Arthur!" he said with some surprise. He knew Arthur was brave and a loyal friend, but this was an especially dangerous mission, considering how close they'd come to capture in this castle last time.

Clapping his manservant on the arm, he said, "What? Did you think I wouldn't come for you? I always need someone to muck out my stables and polish my armor. Mediocre servants are hard to come by."

"I suppose. I'm just surprised is all. I thought I might have to figure a way out of this dungeon myself."

"You? Break out of a dungeon? That's hilarious, Merlin. Really funny. I also came, Merlin, because you have the loosest tongue in the five kingdoms. I was concerned that one dark stare from Orsric would make you spill all of Camelot's secrets, including what color drawers I wear."

"Red. You like to feel rather manly," he said cheekily.

"See?" Arthur said. Then serious, " Look, they know about the old way, so we're going to have to leave by the main entrance. I found this cloak, looks rather similar to several of Morgana's. Put it on and follow my lead." It was a bright red velvet number. As he put it round his shoulders and drew up the hood, he caught of whiff of vanilla and lilacs, definitely Morgana's.

He clasped the velvet tightly around his body, hoping to shield some of his masculinity. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me," Merlin quipped.

Arthur mumbled, "Dream on." as he checked the hallway for any movement. Then catching sight of his friend buried in layers of bright red velvet, he said, "Oh God, the nightmares are going to return again."

Merlin chuckled, but followed Arthur out the hallway, past the unconscious guards. As soon as he cleared the threshold, he felt magic suddenly resurge through his body. It was amazing Like you'd had an odd ache in your body that wouldn't abate, then suddenly it had eased. He felt powerful, more like his usual self.

Arthur had put back on his nosehelm, shielding most of his face. They made their way up several flights of stairs without incident. No one seemed to be awake at this hour.

However, once they reached the main level of the castle, they weren't quite so lucky. Several guards milled around in the entrance, blocking their exit. Some were alert, others were in various states of drunkenness. Arthur had pushed Merlin behind a pillar. "Follow my lead, remember?"

Merlin nodded. Arthur quickly sheathed his sword and then threw a careless arm over Merlin's shoulder, leaning heavily on his friend.

Sauntering and weaving into view with his arm around Merlin's shoulder, Arthur said loudly and with a slight slur to his voice, "And then sweetheart, I brandished my sword at them. The leader gave me this scared look, then I said 'do you surrender?' and he said that he did. Nearly wet himself, he was so scared."

Arthur nodded casually to a couple of the men in the hall but kept talking in the same drunken voice to his companion. "Now let's find somewhere to be more private." He swatted at Merlin's backside, giving his bottom a quick slap.

Merlin let out an involuntary squeak. Thankfully his surprise made his noise sound rather feminine.

"Oh, you're a feisty one, aren't you?" said Arthur.

"Mmm, hmm," Merlin said with a squeak, playing his role.

They were almost to the door. The other knights didn't seem suspicious. A few were smiling and mumbling, but it was clear they believed the story of a drunken knight off to tup a woman.

"I like them feisty," said Arthur in what Merlin thought was supposed to be a seductive, albeit loud voice. Arthur pulled open the door that led outside and within moments they were out in the cold night.

Running in the darkness the few yards to the gates, Arthur swung his arm back over Merlin's shoulders as soon as they were within view, continuing his drunken performance for the guards. Nodding to the guards, they were quickly in the village streets. Once they were safely out of view, Merlin threw off the cloak, knowing that its color would make it easy for them to spot.

"I didn't know you had such strong feelings for me, Arthur," he said with a smile.

"We never talk of that. Ever," said Arthur, drawing out his sword and moving quickly through the streets.

"Agreed, sweetheart," said Merlin jokingly and following at rapid pace.

The alarm bells rang and they ran for it.

"Shut up, Merlin," said Arthur loudly over his shoulder as they both ran towards the cover of the forest.

He stopped just a few steps before disappearing fully. He glanced up at the castle one last time. Morgana was there. She was likely asleep in a warm and lavishly furnished chamber, her belly full of good food and drink. But she was safe. And now so was he. Six weeks seemed like an eternity.

Arthur returned, his face annoyed and said, "Come on, Merlin. You can stargaze later."

* * *

><p>She heard the alarm bells toll out, their loud gong waking her from a dead sleep.<p>

Running to the window, she saw the briefest movement on the outskirts of town. Two figures running into the woods. One of the figures stopped before disappearing into the thick of the forest. He turned his head upwards to stare at the castle and she felt a jolt in her stomach. Merlin. It was Merlin. She couldn't make out any discernable details, but she knew it was him. Then he was gone.

After a long evening of Orsric's lecherous stare, with the promise of more to come, the bells were like the harps of angels. They'd put off the wedding. And now Merlin was free. She felt a small smile turn her lips.

**FINIS **

**Please review! **

**Biggest _Merlin_ pet peeve?**


	23. Dream On

**Chapter 23**

It had been three long weeks. Twenty one days. 30,240 minutes, give or take.

He ached for her. It felt as if the very marrow in his bones ached for want of her. At first , he told himself, it could've all been a dream. Something conjured up by magic and some deep seated desire to do right by Morgana. But it wasn't. Every vivid detail had been true. Every touch, every caress, every expression of love. It was real. And he had to wait three more weeks to find out if she would again be part of his life.

"You've been rather subdued lately, Merlin," said Arthur, pausing mid bite to make the observation.

Jolted out of his internal reverie, Merlins said, "Have I, sire?

"Yes, I mean, few saucy retorts, no snarky comments about my weight or my intelligence. Your work has even become fairly efficient. Frankly, you've become rather dull of late," said Arthur, a frown on his lips.

"I suppose," said Merlin.

"You suppose? Is there something you're not telling me?" said Arthur. Then narrowing his eyes, he continued, "Something that might've happened in Orsric's dungeon?"

_More than you know…_ "No, sire. Nothing happened. I was stuck with Morgana for a few days, nothing more."

"Yes, you said as much. Did she flay you alive with her acid comments?"

"You could say that," said Merlin.

"Are you sure she didn't do more? She didn't hurt you? Like physically?" Arthur asked, suddenly serious.

_Except for tear out my very heart and keep it? _"No, sire. She was without magic. There wasn't much she could do. We mostly traded insults."

"I see. Well, I hope you didn't let her vitriol get to you," Arthur said.

"No," said Merlin stoutly. It was the other _things _that had got to him. Like the mind-blowing intimacy of love making. Although he didn't think Arthur would want to hear about that.

Sighing, Arthur said with a slightly amused smile on his face, "My sister, for that's really what she is, always did have a rather sharp tongue, even before her deflection to the opposite side. At times, I do miss our old banter. She had this annoying tendency to tilt her head to the side while delivering some particularly cutting remark that had me licking my wounds for several days."

Smiling in spite of himself, Merlin said, "Yes, I've seen it. Many a time. Although I doubt I had to lick my wounds quite at long as an arrogant prat like you."

"Insults, something you and my sister have in common. Strange that I've never noticed before," Arthur said with a slight smile that quickly faded. "I suppose it doesn't matter what she used to be anymore. She's made her choice. Or at least deluded herself into thinking she has a right to Camelot's throne."

Merlin had to asked. He needed to know. Trying not to give too much of himself away, he asked hesitantly, "Do you…would you ever consider forgiving her? If the opportunity arose, I mean. If she came to you and asked forgiveness?"

Arthur sighed rather loudly and said, "I don't know. She changed so much, became so unrecognizable. And yet…she's still my sister, we share the same blood, a bond that can't be disputed. I suppose I won't know until or if that moment ever happens."

Merlin was silent for a moment before he said, "For what it's worth, I think you should forgive her. Things weren't always …easy for her here. I think that type of self loathing and hatred has the potential to make monsters out of us all."

Turning to stare at his manservant, Arthur said with a frown. "Sometimes you can be incredibly wise, Merlin. It's a bit unnerving." Then seeing Merlin's smile, he continued, "Don't look so happy, you're still an idiot a significant portion of the time."

* * *

><p><em>She was older- a few streaks of gray in her dark hair, some smile lines and wrinkles around her eyes and cheeks. <em>

_She was standing behind a young girl of about twenty, brushing the girl's raven hair. Seated at a vanity, both their faces were reflected in the mirror. It was like looking at a younger version of herself. The features so remarkably close to her own, she might've thought it a trick of magic. Except the girl's eyes were a luminous shade of blue, so very familiar. The girl wore a baby blue velvet gown brightening her dark blue eyes. _

_"How did you know?" suddenly said the younger version of herself. _

_"Know what, sweetheart?" she heard herself ask. _

_"Know that you loved my father. Know that you made the right decision?"_

_A soft smile graced her lips as she started, "Oh, my dear, that was easy. It wasn't easy getting there or even admitting it, but once I did, once we stopped fighting our feelings and gave into love… well, then everything made sense. Love's simple. It has a way of deciding things for you. Finding it's the hard part. And you've already found it with your fiancée. I can see it in your eyes."_

_The young woman smiled, a soft blush staining her cheeks as she said, "Yes, I do love him. I just…what if marriage changes him? What if the perfect way everything's come together could suddenly go all wrong?"_

_"Marriage changes us all. But in ways that are only for the better. A partnership, a foundation built on love, it can't go wrong. Besides, I'm sure your uncle has already threatened him with severe bodily harm."_

_The young woman smiled to herself in the mirror, her lips quirking in mischief. "I'm sure he did."_

_"It was probably in the same vein as the one he gave your father when we got married. Something about 'immediately and without hesitation'. "_

_They giggled, both their eyes lighting up with merriment. _

She woke up in a dark room, the embers of the fire long dead in the hearth. Three weeks, it had been three weeks since Merlin had escaped into the night with Arthur.

Morgause and Orsric had been furious. Several guards had been beheaded the very next morning for their incompetence.

She hadn't watched. She'd seen enough executions to last her a lifetime.

Turning over in her bed, she looked at the nightstand and the healing bracelet sitting there. Morgause had returned her bracelet the same day she was freed from the dungeon. For a few days she'd worn it, happy to have the sweet oblivion of restful sleep at her disposal.

But for the past two weeks, she'd gone without the bracelet. The prophesies, the dreams, the images had come back in stark and vivid detail. But the images weren't merely of death and destruction. In equal amounts, there were dreams like the one that had awoken her now. Scenes of family life in Camelot. Her children. Merlin. Arthur and Gwen. Even Gaius.

She wanted to see them. Every night she wasn't quite sure what would come: warfare or peace? All she knew is that she wouldn't hide from the visions anymore. She said she wasn't frightened of who she, it was time to start acting like it.

In some ways, it seemed her dreams reflected her inner turmoil. Like her tormented psyche was just as confused as she was.

**FINIS**

**Quick update, right? Please review!**

**Like many of you, my biggest _Merlin _pet peeves are the significant lack of Mergana action (I'd even settle for a 'seduction plot' where Merlin's falsely in love with Morgana, really, I'm that desperate!) and the complete and utter obliviousness of everyone in S4. Come on, Merlin has magic, how is it that nearly everyone who finds out then dies? It's getting absolutely ridiculous. Although the former actually just makes me really upset. I mean, have you seen the hot angry eye sex from S3? Or the light bondage of S4's"cleaning his wound" for absolutely no reason? My loins were burning, I'm sure that Merlin or Morgana's were too. Besides, Merlin REALLY needs some action. I mean, reaaaallllly. A kiss from Gwen in S1 and Freya in S2? That's like 3 years without something!**


	24. Love Sprung from Hate

My only love sprung from my only hate!  
>Too early seen unknown, and known too late!<br>Prodigious birth of love it is to me  
>That I must love a loathèd enemy.<p>

~ Juliet, Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet _

**Chapter 24**

He couldn't sleep. Although with all the tasks Arthur had given him lately, particularly since he no longer thought Merlin was "damaged" from his time spent with Morgana, he needed it.

But something was bothering him. Something that had been nagging his brain for the last few weeks. And staring at the ceiling in his little backroom wasn't doing much.

He quickly dressed, haphazardly throwing on his boots, shirt, and handkerchief. Quietly, he opened his door and tiptoed across the physician's chambers.

He hadn't told Gaius about Morgana. And while he didn't feel too guilty about keeping such a secret, he didn't want to lie outright about his nighttime adventures.

Out the castle and into the woods he ran. It was pitch black but once he was few yards from Camelot's village, he let loose a call in the tongue of the Dragonlord.

He ran to the little clearing, his voice echoing behind him. The air shifted as a breeze made by large wings and a huge body came over the grassy opening. A loud thud sounded as Kilgarrah, the Great and last Dragon settled onto the grass.

"You called for me, young warlock?"

"What do you know about my destiny?" asked Merlin without further preamble.

"As I've told you-" started Kilgarrah in the same lofty voice that he'd initially explained Merlin's place at Camelot. It wasn't any less annoying now.

"Not that one. My future wife. My children," Merlin interrupted.

Kilgarrah gave him a peculiar look and said, "Well, that's a bit unclear. There are numerous variables to consider—"

"What about Morgana?" interrupted Merlin again.

"The witch?" said the Great Dragon with the highest amount of disdain. "The ancient prophecies speak of her alliance with Mordred.".

"Yes, I've heard you say it before. United in evil. Mordred will kill blah blah."

"Then why do you ask what you already know?" said Kilgarrah, an angry edge to his voice.

"Because I think there's more. And I think you're lying."

"No," said the Dragon quickly. Too quickly.

"Yes, you are. What is it that you're not telling me?" Merlin said.

"Nothing. There is nothing of note. Now if there's nothing else you require-," said Kilgarrah.

Giving the Dragon his best and most stubborn Dragonlord look, he said slowly, "Don't make me force it from you."

Seeming to understand Merlin's seriousness, the Dragon began, "Alright, alright. But you must understand, this prophecy is old. Obscure even. With the way things have gone, it bears little significance anymore."

Exasperated, Merlin said, "Tell me."

The Dragon heaved a sigh and began, "I've said before that the witch is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love. And that it is Arthur's destiny and yours to usher in a new age. A golden age. But for all its goodness and wonder, it will end. That is the ebb and flow of the world. It is Arthur's legacy that will live on, his legacy of tolerance and love that people for hundreds of years will turn to in their darkest hours. Camelot will be a shining example of what a place, a kingdom can be. Poets will write sonnets, Bards will write stories exalting the greatness of Camelot."

"Yes, I know that. What about Morgana? What role does she play? Aside from the alliance with Mordred bit? Does she have another destiny? Is it with me? " Merlin asked.

"First answer me this. Do you love her? I mean, truly love her? Love all of the darkness, all the hatred that burns inside of her? Do you love every part of her? Can you reconcile every decision she's ever made? Forgive every life she's ever taken in her pursuit of Camelot's throne? And can you forgive all of those actions?"

He paused a moment, but answered with intensity, "I do. I can. Yes, to all of it. I love her. More than my own life. Maybe even more than my own destiny."

The Dragon surveyed him for a moment and then nodded, "Then it must be true."

He continued, "She will either be your greatest ally or your most diabolical foe. An alliance between the two of you…it could hold more power than anyone could imagine. Like me, you two are the last of your kind. You are the last Dragonlord and she is the last true Priestess of the old Religion. The world that you two would create with Arthur, the Golden Age of Camelot…it is possible that it would not have to end."

"What do you mean?" said Merlin, puzzled and perplexed. .

"True love borne out of true hate, it is the most intense magic in the world. A combination of the two most extreme human emotions. True love is rare enough. But a true love that comes out of true hate? That's unbelievable. Immensely so. It can happen maybe once in a thousand years. A person can always hate that which they once loved, but to love what you once hated? It has the power to change the very fabric of the universe. True love moves mountains, breaks powerful spells. True love from true hate moves the world, rewrites destiny. If the witch feels the same, if she reciprocates that true love from true hate, between the two of you, you could change the entire course of history."

Merlin felt his eyes widen at that pronouncement. An alliance between Morgana and he could change the entire world? Could create Golden Age that lasted beyond Arthur's reign?

He had hated Morgana, make no mistake about that. Certainly not for sustained amounts of time, but sporadically and more often than he'd cared to admit. He meant what he said to her before, that hatred was a poison, that it would fester in your blood and slowly kill the goodness inside. But that didn't mean he hadn't felt the trappings of it for her. Right after her failed take over, he and Gaius had been sent to a home in the village, to look in on a young girl. She was only eight years old.

She had gone to the Citadel to see the pretty new Queen, even though her mother had told her to stay away. When Morgana had given the order for her guards to shoot into the crowd, the girl had been shot with an arrow. She was one of the lucky ones, the arrow merely piercing her thigh. Instead of death, she would walk with a limp for the rest of her life. The worst part about the whole situation was that she couldn't seem to understand why it had happened. She kept crying and kept asking over and over again what she had done to make the Queen so mad.

For days after Merlin had burned with hatred. He knew he should've been happy that Morgana had failed, happy that Camelot was once again in Arthur's hands, but he burned for revenge.

It was only through sheer will that he ended the obsession, ended the gnawing burn in his stomach. It was only when he came to pity Morgana that he was able to stop hating her.

He might be warlock, the most powerful sorcerer for a millennium, but he was still human. Still felt human emotions. And true hatred, not matter how fleeting, was a part of that. True love from true hate? So simple and yet so very complex.

Questions, ideas, moments flashed before his eyes, but he managed to ask, "Why did you never tell me this?"

"Because, as she's proved time and time again, the witch is dangerous. Her magic rivals yours. She doesn't possess your power, but she's not far off. And her motives and actions have always been for evil. A union between you two was never a genuine possibility, never significant, and always, always an obscure and dim possibility for the future. Besides, you had to come to this on your own. Who would've ever guessed or even dreamt of such an alliance? It's rare, incredibly rare. Had I ever told you of this obscure possibility, how would it have ever come about? One chance in a thousand years. And between you and the witch," at these last lines the Dragon chuckled.

"Humor? Really? Laughter?" said Merlin with a pout. "You bring everything down around my ears, predict a new future with Morgana at my side and your only response is to laugh at what an unlikely possibility this was?"

"I'm sorry, young warlock, but the irony of it all…well, it unsettles me," said the Dragon.

"Any other prophecies or information that you're keeping from me? Is Gaius meant to be a circus performer? Is Arthur really a woman?" Merlin finished with a sarcastic and exasperated tone.

"No, young warlock. That is the only one. Had I told you, this might not have come about, don't you see? Your lack of knowledge here has made this prophecy true. You never would've seen the possibility had not everything else happened. True love out of true hate, it's the most powerful magic in the world."

Merlin grumbled, "Well, I suppose don't get your hopes up yet. She hasn't quite decided. We're to meet in two weeks, on Arthur's birthday, at the lake. If she shows up, it's because she can dedicate herself to Camelot. The destiny of Camelot, large or small, is in her hands."

"I see. While I do have faith in your abilities to charm even the most reluctant of ladies, the witch is still dangerous," said Kilgarrah.

"One thing?" said Merlin.

"Yes?"

"If she does come, if she does reciprocate these intense feelings, I want you to call her by name. Morgana. Not the witch or the Lady Morgana, but by her name alone," finished Merlin.

"If that happens, I don't think anyone will ever be able to forget her name. Or yours for that matter," said the Dragon. Then he lifted into the air and flew off into the night.

* * *

><p><em>They faced each other across the battlefield. A few short yards separated them, but bodies were scattered between them like rocks in a creek bed. Flags blew in the wind-Camelot's golden dragon on crimson and the red tree of Morgana's army. <em>

_He looked older than his forty years. Lines of strain were etched on his face. Once soft and innocent blue eyes were now hardened. Icy. Bitterness had crept into the edges of his mouth, turning his once smiling lips into a twisted frown of contempt. _

_Life had been hard on him since their short time together in Orsric's dungeon It had been hard on them both. _

"_I knew it would come to this, Merlin," she heard herself say as her hand rose in front of her, ready to strike with her magic. He mirrored her actions. " The Caelich told me 'he is your destiny and he is your doom'. She wasn't wrong it appears." There was a slight tremor in her mocking voice, but she stood her ground. They hadn't been this close in years. Struggling for power, struggling for triumph and victory amidst battles of wit and might, there wasn't much time to face her enemy. But today she would. Her last stand, although it would be a glorious one. _

_She thought she saw him flinch but she might've imagined it. "What you never understood, Morgana, was that you were the only one who could decide that. You alone had the power to choose this destiny," he said. "I once told you that it didn't have to be like this, that we could find another way."_

"_And I told you there is no other way," she said intensely and with a proud tip of her chin. _

_He sighed, his arm still at the ready. "You're the one who decided that this was the only way. You've been your own doom, Morgana, I'm merely playing the role you cast me in."_

_Angry at the truth of his words, at his ability to still get under her skin after all this time, she finally let magic shoot out from her stretched hand. _

_She nearly stumbled backwards as the stream of their powers collided. A fiery line connected them both across the expanse. He was strong; she was giving it everything she had to stop him, to hold back his power. _

_But it was too much. She knew he was stronger than her. Power and life were draining from her as another substance was flooding her lungs. _

_This was the moment. This was the end. _

_It was hard to breath, she felt as if her throat was flooding with something… _

She woke up, the bile rising up in her throat. Reaching to the nightstand, she quickly grabbed the chamber pot and wretched out the meager contents of her stomach.

Her face felt hot. Clammy. With unsteady hands, she set the chamber pot on the floor and lay back against the headboard. That was the second time this week that she had awoken from a terrible vision to such an intense bodily response.

Blotting her forehead, she evened out her breathing, sucking in calming breaths as the last vestiges of the dreams and the nausea abated. She turned her head to stare at bit longingly at the healing bracelet on the side table.

The visions were worse, they were getting more intense as the days drew closer. She could barely control her own mind, let alone her rebellious body. Two nights ago she'd woken up in a fever of desire, her hands already caressing her passion-starved body. The dream had been very similar to the one she'd had in the dungeon, right before she had turned to Merlin to help ease the ache.

He hadn't been there this time.

Two more weeks. She had to make her decision soon. Because as the vision of Merlin had said, it was her choice to make.

**FINIS**

**If you'll allow me to quote from one of my favorite movies of all time, _10 Things I Hate About You: _"Now I know Shakespeare's a dead white guy, but he knows his shit, so we can over look that."**

**Particularly for this story, right? This was a difficult chapter to write, as I wanted to get the philosophical bit with Kilgarrah just right (I rewrote it about 3 times). I hope you enjoyed it. We've got another chapter before the big decision. Dun Dun Dun. Please review!**

**FYI: as someone who spends a great deal of their time close reading literary texts, I have a Merlin insight that I wanted to share. Several of you have been really interested in the "he is your destiny, he is your doom" bit from S4.1. A number of you have pointed out that Morgana seems to conveniently forget the "your destiny" part, strange as it comes first and could mean a number of romantic things if she actually knew that Emrys was Merlin. But let me give you some more food for thought: hasn't Merlin already been Morgana's doom? In my least favorite episode of the entire Merlin canon, S2.10 where Merlin uses hemlock to poison the naïve Morgana, doesn't he actually kill her? Without her being good and dead (although to later be cured by Morgause), no one would've woken up and then promptly seen Morgause take Morgana away in a tornado of magic. Think on it.**


	25. Somebody That I Used to Know

**Pride cometh before the fall so they say. As many of you so correctly pointed out, Morgana isn't quite dead in S2.10 and Morgause actually does lift the curse on Camelot, therefore nullifying my "Merlin's already been her doom" theory. Sad as it would've made the destiny part much easier to do. My only excuse for such an oversight is that when Merlin and Morgana are in any room together, I forget that anyone else exists as I try to put them into erotic positions. And I still maintain that the "he is your destiny" signifies something because it comes first. Such a peculiar phrase too-"he is your destiny and he is your doom", not "he is your destiny and your doom" or "he is your doom and your destiny", but two distinct phrases put together. Although maybe the Caliech undead have a strange syntax. Anyways, enjoy this chapter! Last one before decision time.**

**Chapter 25**

It had been five weeks since he'd last seen her. He stood behind Arthur in the Council Chambers, half listening to the sonorous drones of the boring weekly meeting. Even Gaius, seated near the center of the long table, looked tired by the proceedings.

He was distracted more than usual lately. While he tried to put on a good show for Arthur so as to avoid more uncomfortable questions about his time as Orsric's guest, he could barely make himself concentrate.

Would she be there? Since his conversation last week with Kilgarrah, more and more he found himself dwelling on the hope that she would. _True love from true hate, the most powerful magic in the world…a Golden Age that would not end…_all these thoughts swirled around in his mind, all the possibilities of a world they would create.

But it was more than that. He needed her. Like air in his lungs. Like blood in his veins. Like magic, he needed her like he needed magic. She was more than a lover, a friend, a counterpoint to him. Loving her was a part of him now, part of his identity. No matter what she chose, he knew he wouldn't stop loving her. It was just wasn't possible. Not after everything that they'd shared.

Those few days in Orsric's dungeon had proven that to him. He needed her love, craved it in the weeks since their departure.

He was terrified of what he would become without her. Their path towards devastation and destruction, the personal battle between the two of them…it would kill him as surely as it would kill her.

"Sire?" said Sir Leon, coming into the room.

"Yes?" said Arthur looking up.

"The scouts have returned from Orsric's lands with news," said Sir Leon.

"Send the scout in," said Arthur and all eyes turned towards the guard who walked in and stopped a few feet from the table.

"What news?" asked Arthur.

"Sire, it appears that they're training an army. Their numbers have doubled in size," said the scout.

A moment of silence greeted that pronouncement, then Arthur sighed and began, "Well, we knew it was only a matter of time before he launched some type of attack. He clearly kidnapped Merlin last month to learn more information about our infrastructure. Thankfully Merlin's not as much of weakling as he looks, so now they're going with brute strength instead. Thank you, that will be all," nodding to the Scout.

"Sire, there's more," said the scout, shuffling his feet.

"More?" asked Arthur warily.

"Yes, sire. There is talk in Orsric's village that the Lady Morgana has engaged herself to Orsric," said the scout slowly.

"What?" shouted Arthur.

"What?" shouted Merlin at the exact same time, drawing every eye to him, including Arthur's.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and said, "Merlin, I'm in charge here."

"Right, sire," he said, trying to appear calm and contrite as he folded his hands behind his back. It wasn't easy when he was desperate for more information. Morgana? Engaged to Orsric?

Turning back to the scout, Arthur continued, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sire. The gossips say that Orsric's promised Morgana Camelot as a wedding present, although there's no definite date set."

The vise on Merlin's chest loosened a little bit, although the news still stunned him. He knew that Orsric had proposed and he knew that Morgana had refused quite emphatically in the dungeons. But there had been no news of an engagement till today.

"We knew that Morgana was there, as Merlin told us. But her delusion that she has some hold on the crown adds a dangerous element to this situation. We'll have to ready ourselves for anything. Thank you, that will be all," he finished, dismissing the scout

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur. He was all at sea. Morgana couldn't be engaged. She wouldn't, would she? She had so vehemently opposed an alliance with Orsric and yet, she was still a guest at his castle. Why had she not left? Why were she and Morgause still willing companions at the castle? He was confused. Angry. And just a tiny bit uncertain. Ok, make that incredibly uncertain. The entire situation wasn't a dream, that was obvious. But were the emotions, the feelings, the love….was it all just a product of the situation like Morgana had originally said?

She'd once promised that she'd forget everything…that was before he'd admitted his magic, before they'd made love…but maybe she was holding true to that now.

No, that was impossible. She loved him. Or at least he thought she must. Although she'd never said as much. And in the weeks since his escape, he'd found the lack of her love words all the more hurtful. Even more so now.

He didn't want to doubt her. But this news had shocked him. What did this mean? Was this just misinformation? Or was she not going to be there next week? He didn't want to doubt her, that had got him into trouble too many times before, but how was he to respond to news of an engagement?

Blessedly, the meeting ended and he was about to hide himself away under the pretense of mucking the stables when Gaius caught up to him.

He looked worried, his wrinkled brow furrowing, "Merlin, is everything alright? You looked rather taken aback at the news about Morgana."

Merlin tried for a light-hearted reply. Despite his conversation with the Dragon and the increasingly difficult range of emotions he was feeling, he tried to keep the mask in place, even for Gaius. "Isn't everyone?" he said evasively.

Gaius raised his eyebrow, giving his trademark stare of disapproval and said, "Well, no one else out shouted Prince Arthur, so likely not as surprised as you."

"It just surprised me is all. I didn't expect to hear of such an alliance," he said truthfully.

"I hope you're not suffering under some delusion that Morgana will turn to the right side. I fear she's been lost to us for some time now. You never could save her, Merlin. No matter how hard you tried," said Gaius sighing.

_But could Morgana save herself?_ his mind asked. There was truth in Gaius's words. Maybe he was right, he couldn't save her. But he'd given her a choice and a chance this last time. Had she already made those decisions? Another week of agony and a possible empty spot at the lake would tell him what he needed to know. He wouldn't give up hope yet.

Putting on a lighthearted smile, he said laughingly, "Don't worry, Gaius. I long ago learned those important lessons."

Then he fled to the solitude of his thoughts.

It wasn't over. It couldn't be. Not yet.

* * *

><p><em>There were four people seated at the very head of the table. Arthur in the middle, Guinevere to his left, Morgana to his right, Merlin to her right. The Great Hall was splendidly decorated with gold and crimson banners. Ever one of the long tables in the hall was laden with food and jugs of wine. It was a feast, a lavish one. <em>

_Arthur stood up and the room fell silent, as he began, his voice mature and steady, "I don't have to tell any of you how important today is. Tonight we feast to celebrate the twenty years since the ban of magic was lifted from this kingdom. But our celebration tonight is more than that. Tonight we also memorialize those who lost their lives in the Great Purge and in the years afterwards. We remember those sorcerers, sorceresses, dragonlords, druids, and other magical people and creatures that lost their lives during such a sad time in Camelot's history. Twenty years ago freedom and tolerance came to be a part of our world again. These actions weren't done for show or for political agenda. These were laws we did this for our children, for our neighbors, and for every citizen of Camelot. Magic became legal because magic is natural, a gift even. The hatred and ignorance of the past has no place in a just society. And it will never again have a place in Camelot. So let us stand and raise our glasses to Camelot-to a kingdom that once knew a dark past and now has a bright future. To Camelot!"_

_There was a great sound of shuffling as ladies and gentleman, peasants and farmers, stood and shouted out, "To Camelot!" The cheer echoed around the room, the sound reverberating against the stone walls of the large room, filing it with sound. _

"_To Camelot," she whispered as tears formed in her eyes, an exuberant smile playing on her lips. It was hard to believe that it had been twenty years since such change had been enacted. _

_She leaned over and whispered in Merlin's ear, "You did this, sweetheart. This is the world that you created."_

_His smile was bright and beautiful, as he whispered back, "No, love, this is the world we created. Together. You and me, Arthur and Gwen. This is our Camelot."_

_She smiled in response, leaning closer to press her lips against his. _

"_For the love of God, could you two keep your hands off each other for at least the duration of my speech?" a voice echoed behind her. _

_Pulling apart, Merlin said cheekily as they reseated themselves, "I thought we did, sire. Or does King Prat have any more grand words to share with the assembly?"_

_Gwen giggled beside him as Arthur said, "Only that you two should get a room. Or at least spare everyone else the public displays of affection. It's rather gross to see my oldest friend practically making out with my sister at the dinner table."_

"_I second that, Uncle. Frankly, it's pretty disgusting," said the dark haired young man seated next to Merlin. Their oldest son, he was nearly twenty one, nearly of age. _

"_I agree as well. I came across them in the hallway the other day. Wanted to rip out my own eyes to avoid the damage done to them. So gross," said a young woman of eighteen. It was the same young woman from her other dream. _

_Total there were five raven-haired children in a line down that side of the table. Two twin boys and another young girl. And all five of them were hers and Merlin's. _

_She and Merlin were laughing as they quickly pressed their lips together to another loud chorus of groans. _

She shot up from her slumped position on the chaise, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Five children? Her eyes widened. Bloody hell.

"What is it, sister? What did you see?" Morgause asked from her position opposite Morgana. They had been sitting in one of the drawing rooms on the lower floors when she had fallen asleep.

"Did you see yourself as Queen of Camelot?" asked Morgause a little more insistently.

Morgana didn't want to lie, but she couldn't very well tell her sister that she was having wonderful dreams about a family with Arthur's manservant and about a Golden Age at Camelot. "Yes, I was at Camelot. It was a…er…celebration."

Morgause smiled like a cat in her cream and said, "Then it bodes well for your future. We'll move on Camelot next week and you'll have nothing left to ponder. Those visions will be a reality."

"So soon? I didn't think the army would be ready by then," Morgana said innocently.

"Have you forgotten? Next week is Arthur's birthday. The distraction will provide the perfect opportunity for insurrection and takeover."

"Oh yes…right. I had forgot," said Morgana unsteadily. The truth was she thought of nothing else. Arthur's birthday was the day she was to decide what her future would be.

She looked at her sister, really looked at her for probably the first time in months, maybe even years. The gleam in her eye, the bide for power through Morgana's position….it used to enliven her sister, used to make Morgana eager to please. Now her sister's face, it's harsh and ambitious tilt, made her look sad. There was no warmth left in her eyes, not even when she gazed at her only sibling. Anger, bitterness, the struggle had all taken its toll on Morgause.

And if she stayed, she would do that to herself. To Merlin too.

Her sister had lost her heart, her sense of humanity long ago. While Morgana knew her sister still loved her, that love was tempered by the struggle for Camelot's throne, tempered by what Morgana could do for her. If she turned against Morgause, her sister would never welcome her back, would never be able to forgive her.

And Arthur would? Maybe in the back of her mind, she knew he'd at least consider the possibility. It wouldn't be easy for a proud man like Arthur to forgive her many, many trangressions. (And it wouldn't be easy for her to admit her wrongs). At least she thought he might consider forgiveness. Although that was a big might.

What she feared the most wasn't death. It was an ornamental position at a man's side. A place that Uther had tried for years to carve out for her at Camelot. Never heard and never understood. A pretty doll meant to mind her duty and fulfill her place. She thought that as queen she would never have to be another man's puppet.

But looking across the short expanse that separated her from her sister was like looking into a distorted mirror of the future. Her dreams had been trying to tell her that for some time. Every time she saw her future self at Camelot, she looked happy. Content. Loved and loving, surrounded by people who she loved and people who she loved in return. Merlin. Their children. Arthur. Gwen.

In the darkness, in the dreams about destruction, about Merlin and her last battle, it was always hatred, always despair. She was never happy.

But what good was a kingdom without love? Who said she would even be able to hold it; she'd lost before with an immortal army. It was likely she'd lose without it. Merlin was right, fear was no way to rule a kingdom. She'd be no better than Uther or Orsric

For so long she'd known what she wanted: Camelot, the return of magic, and revenge on the people who had wronged her. Now her actions seemed wrong. Her presence in this castle with her sister somehow a further betrayal of the trust Merlin had placed in her. He loved her enough to trust her with his secret, to trust her with knowledge that could bring down Arthur's entire world. His faith in her was…humbling.

And she loved him. Because there was no other word to describe the swirling multitude of feelings inside her. She'd once hated him, hated every look on his face, every emotion his eyes showed her, the accusing glances he'd given her across the Great Hall, the fortuitous way he thwarted her plans. She'd hated what he represented-her past, her ignorance, her dependence.

But that had all changed in Orsric's dungeon. He had gone from enemy to friend, from friend to lover, from lover to her soul's mate. She couldn't hate anymore because of him; not when love, so wonderful and beautiful bloomed inside her. Tears stung her eyes as the revelation came over her like a clean rain after a drought. She loved Merlin. The words weren't frightening anymore. The emotions weren't terrifying. Love was a balm to her soul. It was her salvation.

But did she love him enough to give up her bide for power? Was she always destined to choose her ambitions over him? Was her own love tempered by her ambitions? Honesty was a virtue she'd long denied herself. Could that moment be now? Could honesty, could openness save them all? Was her love true enough, honest enough to fight the darkness?

True love was the some of the most powerful magic in the world. She'd heard it whispered among the druids and among other magic people as the breaker of all spells, the heart of all goodness, the very fabric of life itself. True love was an unbreakable force.

But true love required sacrifice. Sometimes that was big or small, but it required you to give up something that you once thought you wanted, that was once so important to you. Because the person you loved became bigger, more important than something from the past, something that once exclusively drove you. Her ambitions had been her only sustenance these last few years, but without love, without Merlin, they seemed hollow. Unfulfilling.

She'd rather die than hurt Merlin. She'd rather die than force him to hurt her. Was that not the true test of love? She loved him. She would always love him. And she couldn't choose a life of darkness, not when another, wonderful life was so humbly offered.

As the realization set in, there seemed only one solution-Chose Merlin. Chose life. Chose Camelot.

In the end, it was simple really. She was on the wrong side of this war. And this was her chance to turn back. Words, words that she said came back to her in that instant: "Sometimes you have to do what's right, damn the consequences." She'd said those words to Arthur, but they seemed particularly appropriate now. She was powerful, no doubt about that. But Merlin was right, just because you were capable of great power, didn't mean that you should always be the one to wield it. Responsibility, loyalty, those were values she wanted to have again.

She breathed a sigh of relief, although she didn't know why. She still had to escape Orsric's castle and there was definitely a battle to be had with Arthur. But for the first time since Merlin and she made love, she felt like she'd made the right decision. She wasn't meant for this life anymore; Merlin had taught her that.

"You've been rather distracted lately, sister," Morgause said, looking up from the book she was reading.

Her comment startled Morgana as she didn't think her sister was that observant."I've just been tired of late. Nothing out of the ordinary for someone recovering from my ordeal in the dungeons."

Morgause responded, "I suppose. Although I didn't think you were so weak as to let a few days in the dungeon exhaust you. We have a great battle ahead of us, there'll be little time for naps."

"I'm not weak, merely taxed by the whims of a small man," Morgana said.

"There'll be plenty of small men in your future. So you'd best learn to mind your tongue. Orsric doesn't take too kindly to your saucy retorts."

"I'm well aware," she said with a snort.

"It's a long trek, Morgana. Surely you can see that. You have to seize power and manipulate it wherever you can. You'd best be ready, because once we go to war with Arthur, there'll be no turning back. Not this time."

"I know," she said softly. She did know.

Merlin was her true love. Her soulmate. The world they could create at Camelot would be happy, wonderful, accepting. All of things she'd hoped to bring about with her own reign, but wasn't capable of doing on her own. She needed Merlin. And Arthur and Gwen.

Love was her religion. She'd die for it. And under Orsric's thumb and her sister's watch, not to mention Arthur's wrath, she just might.

**FINIS**

**I paraphrased the "Love is her religion, she'd die for it" from my favorite poet and consumptive babe John Keats. You've probably stumbled across "Ode to a Grecian Urn" but my favorite poem is actually "The Eve of St. Agnes". **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the delay, I finished my dissertation chapter and moved out of state in the past 2 weeks (hurray!). Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Please review!**

**P.S. When I set out to write this story, I didn't actually intend to use so many song titles or lyrics as chapter titles. However, the first time I heard Gotye's "Somebody that I Used to Know", all I could think about was Merlin and Morgana. It's particularly fitting for them, don't ya think? I haven't quoted them in this story, but I think I owe quite a bit of sexy and angsty bits to Halestorm and their self-titled album. Song after song seems to channel the naughty Mergana energy that we all love so much. If you're writing some fanfic, I would highly recommend the album as background music. **


	26. And I am done with my graceless heart

_And I am done with my graceless heart._

_So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and restart_

_Cause I like to keep my issues drawn_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

-Florence + The Machine, "Shake it Out"

**Chapter 26**

[letter folded on the nightstand, the healing bracelet on top]

_My dearest sister,_

_By the time you read this letter, I will be long gone. I once told Arthur that sometimes you have to do what's right and damn the consequences. I'd forgotten that line until a few days ago and yet it seems that for so very long, I'm been doing what's wrong, no matter who gets hurt or what happens to me or anyone else around me. I'll always be grateful to you as the person who showed me that my magic made me special, that it didn't make me an outsider or a monster. But I think under your guidance, that's exactly what I've become. _

_From the beginning of this endeavor, I knew I couldn't marry Orsric. Maybe the last bit of my soul wasn't for sale to such a brutal bastard, and while I wanted to save you from his maltreatment, I never could resign myself to a life with him, even for such a short time. I've been put into a nearly impossible situation: to choose one of my siblings and be forever lost to the other. I'd chosen you for so long, that my choice started to seem right. We are alike in many ways-our magic will always make us sisters, But for all of his ignorance about magic, it was only when I showed my allegiance that Arthur turned his back on me; even though I had turned my back first, too quickly and with little cause. _

_My visions have always been a part of my life and you taught me that they were the key to my destiny. But my destiny no longer lies with you. Because at night I don't dream of power or of being queen. When I see a future here with Orsric, all I ever see is death and destruction, all I see is hatred and bitterness. But when I dream of Camelot, of a different future, I see a place filled with love, a home with a large family, and a man I love. I see myself as a counselor to Arthur, as a representative of all the good things that magic can be. A place of freedom, like we once dreamed together. _

_Someone else has recently given me a choice- the chance to choose between love and hate. And I choose love. The person who gave me this choice was Merlin and my place is with him in Camelot. I'm in love with Merlin, a man who sees all of me, who fulfills me and understands me in a way that no one else ever has or ever will. I lied to you earlier when I said it was Alvarr who took my virginity. It was Merlin. Merlin, yes Merlin my previously sworn worst enemy, was the one to whom I gave my virginity to, an act that I won't ever regret. Because it was Merlin who taught me that love is the most powerful magic of all. I go to him and to Camelot to face the consequences of my actions, but also I hope to marry him and fulfill the destiny we share together._

_I'm sorry to disappoint you, I truly am, but I will never be sorry for choosing Merlin and for choosing Camelot. This has been my path for quite some time and I can't ignore it anymore. I leave my healing bracelet, the first gift you ever gave to me. At the time it was my lifeline, both a symbol of your friendship and a necessary token to ward off bad dreams. Now it belongs to you, the end of a promise, an alliance between us that wrought so much terror and death on people that I once loved, that I still love. _

_Camelot has always been my home. In my power hungry state, I never quite realized how much damage I was doing to a place and to people that I loved. I return to them, uncertain of my fate, uncertain of what anyone will choose. But this time, my conscience is clear. If I die, it'll be with the knowledge that I did what was right, that I would be answering for the crimes I committed against Camelot's people, not for the paltry crime of possessing magic. _

_Morgana _

She rode away from the Orsric's castle in the middle of the night on a stolen horse, her black velvet cloak billowing behind her at the breakneck speed.

She didn't look back. There was nothing left for her there.

**FINIS**

**I know it's rather short, but I wanted to get this bit out ASAP. **

**Oh, so I have a HUGE surprise in store for you next chapter. I hope to have time this next week to write it out. ****Please review!**


	27. Will she?

**So late here (almost 3 am!) but I thought everyone had waited long enough for this chapter.**

**Chapter 27**

He was surprised he slept at all. Every minute he'd doze off, he could've sworn he heard her voice calling his name softly. He chalked it up to wishful thinking, but that didn't help him sleep any easier. Knots formed in his stomach, his mind raced, repeating one question over and over again: would she be there?

This would either be the best day of his life or the absolute worst. Morgana had so much power over him, over everything-Camelot, the destiny of Albion, Arthur's legacy.

He felt a small smile tug at his lips despite the inner turmoil. Today she was the most powerful woman in the world. Her choice could set off a chain of events that would cause unprecedented joy or massive destruction.

He was desperate for an end to this situation, desperate for her to choose him, to choose them over old alliances and misbegotten titles.

To love him just as much he loved her. Because he _craved_ Morgana. Not the Lady Morgana or the detroned Queen Morgana or even the sorceress Morgana, but the woman behind all of those identities, the woman inside who tried so desperately to get out from under the heavy blanket of darkness that magic and Uther and the world had cast over her.

That was the Morgana that he loved. That was the woman that he wanted. He wanted her body, her heart, her soul because he was all too willing to give his own in return. He already had.

Maybe he was selfish. But didn't he deserve happiness? Didn't she? It wasn't only about Camelot. It never had been. At the core of everything was his bone deep desire to see her be the person she once was, to see her fulfill the promise that she'd once had. The promise of a good person, a supporter of Arthur, the counselor to the King, a high priestess who used her power for good.

He turned over in his bed. It was still a few hours before dawn, but he couldn't sleep anymore. He dressed quickly in the dark, he needed to get out of here.

Slowly opening his door, he tiptoed down the few steps and was about to make his way for the door when a voice interrupted: "Where are you off to at such an hour?" It was Gaius. He was sitting upright in his bed, his white hair disheveled from sleep.

Smiling dumbly, Merlin said, "Nowhere. I mean, just out. You know, fresh air."

Gaius surveyed him for a long moment and then said, "You're a terrible liar, Merlin. Thank goodness you can keep your one secret. Now tell me where you're sneaking off to."

He thought about telling Gaius. It would be so nice to lay out all his doubts, worries, concerns to the man who had been like a father to him since his arrival here. But he couldn't do that. Not yet. Not until he was certain of anything. He owed Morgana a few more hours of secrecy.

"We're established that you're lying. So well?" said Gaius, raising his trademark eyebrow, which was particularly humorous coupled with his nightgown. "What are you up to?"

"Trust me, Gaius, if this situation goes as planned you'll know exactly what I was doing. If not, I'll tell you everything tonight. I promise."

It was true. If Morgana didn't show up, he wouldn't stop himself from blubbering on the old, yet sturdy shoulders of his guardian.

Gaius gave him another long look but nodded. "Alright, but whatever situation you've involved yourself in be careful. You have a tendency to get yourself into more close scrapes than anyone else I know."

He smiled cheekily, "What can I say? Trouble has a tendency to follow me."

And he only hoped this time "trouble" aka Morgana would follow him to Camelot.

The walk to the lake took half an hour, but the exertion coupled with the cool air was refreshing. But it did little to quiet his nerves.

Mist was rising off the lake of Avalon. He tried not to remember the second time he'd been here. Freya. Her small body swathed in Morgana's stolen gown, life pouring out of her before his very eyes. He'd avoided this place ever since, only visiting when it was necessary.

But he had chosen this place for that very reason. He wanted to purge it of the bad memories, to reshape a place that held terrible memories into a place of reconciliation, of change.

Or, if she didn't show, have even more reason to avoid this place. It was beautiful. While the trees were bare due to winter, there was a reverent and peaceful quality about the area around the lake. Magic, he could feel it flow through him, there was magic here.

He settled himself on the cold ground with his back against a tree. Maybe he'd just close his eyes…a few moments of rest…

He awoke with a start, uncertain of how long he'd been out or what sound had startled him from his slumber.

Then he heard it. The unmistakable sound of hooves.

He stood, excited. It was dawn. It must be Morgana. It must be her. It could only be her.

But as the rider broke through the trees, he felt his stomach sink as a few tendrils of icy fear slid down his back.

The rider was wearing a dark cloak, the hood pulled close over the face. He couldn't make out any of the details and he suddenly felt a sense of dread. Orsric's scouts were about. He had no weapon, no means of protecting himself aside from magic. He thought about running but his body wouldn't budge. What if it was her?

So he merely watched as the rider drew closer, waiting for his destiny or his doom.

Suddenly, the rider reared up in front of him and as the hood flew back, he let out an audible gasp.

She had come and she was smiling. Her smile was dawn, it was perfection. It light up her entire face, making every doubt, every worry, every anxiety dissolve like ice in the heat of the bright sun.

Was it even still winter? All he could feel was the warmth of a coming spring.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come," he heard himself say as he drew closer to help her down from her perch. It was a stupid and awkward line but true.

"I wasn't sure myself," she said, their eyes at the same level.

"How?" he asked breathlessly. He wasn't sure what the "how" was asking, he was so intoxicated by her presence. She was here. In his arms.

She smiled even wider and said, "Well, I slipped the guards a sleeping draught, snuck out of the castle, stole a horse, then rode off into the night. Although that makes it sound remarkably easy. Oh and I also cast a spell that will give Orsric some very painful bumps in a particularly sensitive area."

"I…I just don't know what to say. You're here. With me," he said, his hand running over her face to ensure she was real.

"Well, then maybe it's my turn to speak," she said. Then went on intently, "I choose Camelot. I choose light over darkness, love over hate. And I choose you, Merlin, over a long life of struggle and destruction. It was always an easy choice, I just never let myself see how easy."

"You do? You choose me?" he said eagerly.

"Was there every any doubt? How could I not choose the man I love? You were right, we choose our own destinies. And this is the one I choose."

He let out a ragged sigh and said, "You truly love me? Even though we were once sworn enemies? Even though we once hated each other?

Cupping his face in her hands, she said, "Yes, Merlin. Are you always this thick? Yes, I love you. And I can't hate someone who I now love. You've destroyed my ability to hate you, to hate anyone. You've changed me. You've altered me. Can't you see? Your love has healed me, it's healed us."

She pressed her lips against his and he finally believed. The feel of her lips made everything better. All his fears, all his doubts, all the worries were gone. This moment felt so right-we choose our own destiny but this moment, this kiss had been foretold for hundreds of years. Epic and powerful, the kiss was everything he'd imagined it would be and more. It felt as if he'd been waiting a lifetime for this kiss of true love.

Because that's what it was. The power seemed to reverberate from their fused lips to the entire world. Something in the fabric of the universe had shifted with one single kiss.

"There's something else," she said pulling away with an impish grin.

"What?" he asked warily.

"Well, you're going to be a father."

"What…how..?" he sputtered.

She laughed at the flummoxed look on his face. "I'm pregnant. We're having a baby."

"But…how?" he asked dumbly, staring wide-eyed down at her still flat stomach.

She giggled and placed his hand against her stomach. "I'd think that the physician's apprentice would be able to figure that one out. It appears that you have some very potent sperm."

"You…shouldn't be standing…you need to sit…you've been riding…you need to rest…" he said a bit frantically.

"I'm fine. I don't want to sit, although I wouldn't mind leaning against the tree for a moment, my legs feel like jelly…. Put me down! Put me down! Really, there's no reason for you to carry me, I'm perfectly capable…" she protested loudly as Merlin swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the tree.

"Not on my watch," he interrupted as he set her down against the tree.

"Merlin, be sensible. I'm perfectly fine. A bit tired, but that's to be expected after a long journey. Your face is getting all scrunched up. Aren't you happy?" she finished a bit uncertainly.

The worry left his face as he realized how his behavior must've seemed. "Yes, yes, of course. This is the best news. I'm excited beyond words. A baby. Our baby. I just…"

"You just what?" she asked.

"This isn't the reason you came?" he asked uncertainly.

Seeing his distress, she said quickly, "No, no, of course not. I didn't actually realize what all the morning sickness and tiredness was until last night when I vomited alongside the rode. But no, I decided last week to come here. I'm sick of being a villain. And you showed me that I didn't have to be one anymore. Our baby's a sign of what I've known all along: you are my destiny, not my doom."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I know…I just needed to hear it."

"Well hear it, my love. And stop being so stupid. Never doubt me, Merlin. And I'll never give you a reason to."

It was a balm to his soul. He never would doubt her again. Nothing would ever come between them again.

He reached into his pocket. Now was the moment for this, it was perfect. He produced an engraved silver ring in the palm of his hand. "My mom gave me this ring the first time she met you. My father had given it to her, one of the few things she had to remember him by. When she gave it to me, she said something about how she could tell that you were special and that eventually you'd mean something to me. For the past few years, I considered chucking it in the bin. But something always stopped me. Maybe I always knew that you would turn around, that you'd come back to us. I suppose I never really lost hope."

Her eyes were glazed over with tears as she tentatively picked up the ring as if it were made of glass. "Oh Merlin, it's lovely. Dragons?" she asked questioningly.

"I'll explain in a minute," he said, then taking a deep breath, he got down on one knee. "Look, I know it's not much. And I can't promise you jewels or palaces or gorgeous velvet gowns that make you look like the goddess you are. But as I said before Morgana, I love you. I can promise to always protect you. To share everything with you-my magic, my life, my future, and the Camelot we can build with Arthur and Gwen. And I can promise never to doubt you again, to be everything that you could possibly need. I won't let _anything _ever come between us. I'll try every day of my life to make you never regret your choice today, to prove to you that your sacrifice here was never in vain. I promise to listen to you, to be with you always. Because I never want to be alone again. I never want to be without you again. Morgana Pendragon, Lady of Camelot and dethroned Queen, will you marry me?"

Tears were streaming down her face now as she smiled brightly and said, "Yes! Yes of course I'll marry you. I only need you. Nothing else matters. As long as I have you, I have everything I need."

Tugging him to his feet, she pulled him into her arms and excitedly planted kisses all over his face, practically shouting "I love you" between each one. At that moment, she looked exactly like the girl he used to know. Sweet, loving, tart, and excitable. Opening her tightened palm, he took the ring back and placed it on her left hand ring finger.

It was a perfect fit. They smiled as he rubbed his thumb over the ring.

"An engagement and a baby too? This…this is the best day of my life. Better than Christmas Better even than when Uther fell madly in love with that troll. Better than anything I could've ever dreamed," he said.

"I know, right? Not even in my most prophetic dreams did I think happiness this pure and wonderful existed. Although…do you want to hear something truly frightening?

"What?" Merlin asked warily again. She was full of surprises today, although so far they seemed rather pleasant.

"We're going to have four children. Well, at least four more," she said.

Four more? At least? "Bloody hell," he muttered, his eyes widening.

"That's exactly what I said!" she said laughingly.

**FINIS**

**Surprise, it's a baby! Some of you picked up on it over the past few chapters, so well done. (Hands you a metaphorical cookie). And yes, obviously I took huge dramatic license with some of the symptoms of pregnancy. I doubt Morgana would have morning sickness so early in the process.**

**I want to say an extra big thank you to everyone for the reviews. I can't tell you how utterly BLOWN away I am by the sheer number of reviews for this story. It's by far the most I've ever received on any of my stories. So thank you, anonymous reader, for pressing that little blue button and making every chapter fun to write.**

**I do have a few more chapters in the works (2? 3?) but this was sort of the big moment-although let's see how Morgana fares with Arthur. (How do you think Arthur will react to the "Merlin impreganated my sister" storyline? Gasp. Oh no! Muhahahaha)**


	28. YOU WHAT?

**Couple more chapters on this, at least two more. Enjoy, it gets goooood.**

**Chapter 28**

They rode back to the castle together on her horse. He was seated behind her the entire time, holding her, pulling her closer, snuggling their bodies together.

And he told her everything. How he was a dragonlord, how he'd thwarted so many of the plans against Camelot. All of it.

"So you're Emrys?" she said with a voice full of awe. "You're the he most powerful warlock in a millennium? The one the druids speak of as a sort of messianic figure?"

"Well, yes, although that makes me sound a bit more…intense. You don't want me to get a big head like your prat of a brother, do you?" he said blushing a bit.

"Not in _that head_ anyways," she said with a giggle.

"Good God, you're going to be trouble, aren't you?" he said.

"Absolutely. But it's too late. I've chosen you. And there's nothing that can come between us anymore."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Let's start with the truth. To everyone. No more lies. Not between us. Not between Arthur and Gwen."

"The truth," she echoed.

As the city came into view, he slowed the horse. "I think we should pull your hood down, Morgana. Your face is pretty unforgettable and I don't want to case a stir that'll reach Arthur."

"I understand," she said, pulling down the hood so her face wasn't visible.

They cantered into the village where the day was just beginning; farmers were dragging along carts, women were washing clothing in huge tubs, children were playing in the streets. It was the sounds of Camelot's daily life, and despite the coming…unpleasantness, the sounds of mundane life comforted him.

He tightened his arm around Morgana's waist. This had been her home long before it had been his. And just a few months ago he would've done anything to keep her from this place. Now he'd do anything to keep her here.

As they passed through the citadel gates, he inwardly cursed. The courtyard was full of the knights. Arthur was currently in a council meeting, the knights were supposed to be training. He thought that with both of those events in progress, it would give him a chance to avoid courtyard commotion. Apparently not.

Lancelot was the first to spot him. "Oy, Merlin, where've you been? And who've got there?"

"Who's the lady? And what does she see in you, eh?" asked Percival.

"Out for a morning tryst, eh Merlin?" asked Gwaine with a teasing lilt.

He stopped the horse in front of the knights and said, "Not exactly."

They knights were moving closer, curious and interested like gossipy old women. He helped Morgana to the ground, conscious to keep her hood up. Like Helen of Troy, her face had the potential to set off an entire military operation. If only he could find some way to get her into the castle…

"No more secrets, right?" she whispered to him, her hooded eyes imploring him.

"Right," he said as he brushed his hand over her face, gently removing the hood.

For the space of two seconds there was nothing but deafening silence around them. Then the sound of quickly drawn swords and angry and surprised voices filled the air.

"Step back from the witch, Merlin. Step back!" called out Leon as the rest of the knights circled around them.

"Bloody hell, Merlin, you've just waltzed into the courtyard with Morgana? No warning? What the hell is wrong with you?" said Gwaine, all teasing gone from his voice.

The knights completely surrounded them, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. . Morgana barely blinked; she was calm and serene in the face of obvious danger.

He was bloody well freaking out. They were surrounding the woman he loved and his unborn child with large pointy swords. Trying to calm an escalating situation and to curb his own desire to shoot off a spell that would send them all on their asses, Merlin said, "Is that really necessary, boys? She's come with me."

Morgana took his hand and said, "It's fine, Merlin. Really. I don't mind. They have quite a bit of experience with me in the past, I'm not surprised by this reaction."

Her touch cooled his anger just a bit. "Alright. But no one is to hurt her. She's with me," he said, loud and serious.

"A bit macho, Merlin," guffawed Gwaine.

Angry, he bit out, "Have I ever led you astray, Gwaine? Elyan? Lancelot?"

"No," said Lancelot with some authority. "But she has."

"Fine. But she'll answer for her crimes to Prince Arthur and no one else," Merlin said.

"Alright, Merlin, alright. But there's no way she enters the castle without manacles," said Leon calmly.

Percival produced a pair of manacles and cautiously made his way through the circle of swords to chain Morgana.

Merlin said, "Chain us together, Percy." When the knight gave him an incredulous look, he said. "It's fine, I promise."

As their wrists were once against shackled in irons, he looked over and smiled at Morgana. "Feels a bit familiar, eh?"

"Very. Although next time we're chained, my love, I have much more imaginative plans," she said with a sexy smirk.

"As my lady wishes," he said with a devious wink.

The whole entourage proceeded inside the castle; Merlin and Morgana chained together, the knights surrounding them with their lowered swords.

As the guards started to recognize Morgana, more men joined the procession. Their hands were intertwined and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. She looked over and smiled, although he could see anxiety on her face. This wasn't going to be an easy interview, but it must be done.

Arthur was seated at the head of the table, occupying the place his father typically would.

He stood when the large crowd entered the hall and asked with a voice of authority, "What the hell is going on here? We're in the middle of a meeting. Why aren't you on the training fields?"

The knights looked uneasy but no one answered him. Arthur must've spotted him over the knights. "What is my servant doing in chains? What's Merlin done this time? It's too bloody early for the tavern to be open."

Gwaine and Elyan moved aside and both Merlin and Morgana became visible to the Prince.

"YOU!" he yelled, advancing towards the pair. "What are you doing here? How dare you have the nerve to show your face in Camelot!"

"Arthur, calm down," Merlin said calmly.

The words only agitated Arthur more. "Calm down? How am I to calm down? You've somehow managed to get yourself chained to the most wanted person in Camelot and I'm to calm down?" he said with a hysterical edge to his voice.

"I asked the knights to chain me," Merlin said evenly.

"Oh, brilliant, Merlin. Really brilliant. You're either incredibly stupid or very brave," said Arthur quickly with wild gestures of his hands.

"Can't a man be both?" he asked with some humor.

"In you, that seems like a likely and lethal combination. Next I suppose you're going to tell me that you've also fallen madly in love with Morgana and want to marry her," said Arthur, chuckling at his joke. Except Merlin didn't laugh, nor anyone else.

A few moments of silence and then Merlin started slowly, "Well, actually…."

Arthur came at the pair, his eyes burning with anger as he said, and "You've gone too far this time, Morgana."

Merlin pushed Morgana behind him and said evenly. "You're still standing, Arthur because you're my friend and my Prince. But I won't let you touch Morgana in anger. Not now and not ever."

"She's clearly enchanted you, Merlin!" Arthur said obviously.

Morgana cut in, "Arthur, if I could explain-"

Arthur interrupted with an abrupt raise of his hand, "Not now, witch. I'm trying to deal with my idiot of a servant who's gone and got himself enchanted!" he said through clenched teeth.

"She hasn't enchanted me! I'm perfectly in my senses. Besides, she can't easily enchant me," said Merlin.

"Well, I could if I really wanted…" said Morgana with a flirty smile.

"Yes, my love, you've enchanted me, but not in that way," he replied, returning her smile. It wasn't exactly the right moment but he couldn't help himself. She was adorable and oh so sassy.

"I mean, I really could've—" she said with another smirk.

From the corner of his eye he could see how exasperated Arthur was getting. Merlin said, "You're not helping. Besides, dream on, sweetheart."

At the word "sweetheart", Arthur exclaimed angrily, "Will someone explain what the hell is going on here? Stop flirting with Morgana and explain why she can't easily enchant you."

Merlin took a steadying breath and then said slowly, his eyes locking with Arthur's, "Because I have magic too."

"You WHAT?" said Arthur, pure shock suffusing his face. His eyes bulged out of their sockets and after his exclamation, his mouth was agape.

"I'm a sorcerer. A great one actually. The best for a millennium, so they say," Merlin finished with a shrug of his shoulders. It felt good to say the truth. For so many years, he'd kept it all hidden and now he was able to tell Arthur the truth. That he wasn't an idiot, that he wasn't some simpleton, but that he was powerful because of magic.

Arthur looked around the room wide-eyed, clearly waiting for someone to start laughing at what a farce the situation was. "Are you…are you sure this isn't some type of birthday practical joke? Merlin a sorcerer? And in love with Morgana? I mean, you lads have outdone yourselves…But really, it's not terribly funny."

Arthur's eyes landed on Merlin, still wide with disbelieve. "No, Arthur. It's true. I'll prove it," said Merlin evenly.

He lifted his right hand and muttered _Forbearne_. Fire leapt from his palm, with another mutter, it grew a little taller. Everyone in the room gasped.

"But…how? Why? What…?" Arthur sputtered.

Merlin muttered the counter spell and the flame died. "Why haven't I hurt you? Tried to kill you? Maybe even try to overthrow your kingdom? Because I've been too busy protecting you, dollophead. Preserving your destiny. Our destinies in Camelot."

"If what you say is true, then what the hell you are you doing with that traitorous woman?" Arthur said, stabbing his finger towards Morgana.

"It's a long story-" Merlin started.

"It's alright, Merlin. Let me speak. I brought this upon myself," interrupted Morgana. Turning to squarely face Arthur, she started, "Arthur, I can't really be sure how to begin. Words of apology seem rather trite and inadequate at a moment like this. But you deserve them. So many people do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to steal the crown from you. I'm sorry for trying to kill you and Gwen. I'm sorry for all the destruction I wrought on this happy kingdom. There's blood on my hands. Too much for me to even account for. I came back here because Merlin persuaded me that the path I was on wasn't the right one. That magic and that the powers I have were meant to be used for good. Not for evil, not to gain titles that are not my own. Magic doesn't corrupt one's soul, Merlin's proof of that. I'll accept whatever punishment you want. Any penance you desire. But know this: I am sorry. I am changed. And if you give me even the smallest chance, I will prove to you now and forever, that you have my loyalty, my trust, and my unerring support." Her voice was loud, certain, full of remorse. Every ear in the hall strained to her truth filled words. Merlin couldn't have been prouder.

She knelt and bowed her head loyally, "You are Camelot's true heir. You are the right person to wield the power of Camelot and to unite Albion under one banner. I was wrong, so very wrong to try to take that from you. You, sire, are the true heir to the crown. And I'll say those words with my dying breath, no matter how short lived my life.

After a few moments of silence, Arthur asked thickly, "So you want my forgiveness? It's important to you?"

"Almost more than anything else in this world. Yours and Guinevere's, the entire kingdom of Camelot's. Even our father's," she said, her head still bowed reverently.

"And you're willing to die to prove it? To atone for your crimes?" Arthur asked bluntly.

"Yes," she returned without hesitation.

That thought scared the hell out of him. Arthur wouldn't execute her, would he? Deciding he'd been quiet long enough, he interjected, "Arthur, if I could say something. While this transformation to you might seem as if it happened overnight, Morgana's had quite some time to think on it. You know that we were thrown together in Orsric's dungeon. Well, I didn't tell you the entire story. We fell in love. We both didn't want to be on the path we were headed-we saw the destruction that hatred and distrust could breed between you and she, and between us. She had several opportunities to align herself with Orsric and she never once took it."

Skepticism returned to Arthur's face as he said, "What about your engagement to Orsric? We've just heard of it this past week."

"That was a deal brokered by Morgause. You must know what a cruel man Orsric is. I knew from the start that I would never willingly put myself into his hands. The only way to put him off was to promise him my hand in marriage until Merlin and I could meet. Ask Merlin, I never once intended to marry him," Morgana said truthfully.

"It's true. Orsric offered Morgana a chance out nearly every night we were in that hellhole. She never took it," Merlin said.

Arthur looked pensive, but there was a definite touch of disbelief in his face. Merlin had to make him see, he had to make Arthur realize how important it was that he not kill Morgana. "Look, Arthur, I know this is a lot to take in. But as your friend and your most loyal servant, I beg of you to give her a small chance. Because if you kill her, you'll have to kill me too. I won't live without Morgana, I can't live without her. If you kill her you won't just be destroying the woman I love, you'll be destroying the family we'll create here in Camelot," he said desperately as he helped Morgana to her feet.

"What do you mean family?" said Arthur, a frown on his face.

A slight smile touched Morgana's features as she said, "I'm pregnant with Merlin's child. We made love our last night in Orsric's dungeon."

"YOU WHAT? YOU IMPREGNATED MY SISTER?" Arthur practically screamed. He was even angrier now than when Merlin had revealed his magic.

"Yes," Merlin said evenly as he backed up a little bit.

Reaching to his waist, Arthur came up empty-handed and then shouted to no one in particular, "WHERE THE HELL IS MY SWORD?"

Merlin backed up another couple of inches, pulling Morgana with him as he said, "I hid it away. For exactly this reason. Well, not this exact reason per se, but because you're something of a hothead. And as you've so aptly put it 'you've been trained to kill since birth'."

"WILL SOMEONE GIVE ME A SWORD? I NEED MY WEAPONRY, NOW! Leon, hand me your sword. I'm your prince, I demand that you hand me that sword!" finished Arthur when Leon hesitated. Arthur walked over to Leon and yanked the sword from the knight's hand.

Arthur pressed the sword against Merlin's chest. "Like I said, we love each other. We want to get married. It was just right. Look, you don't have to make any decisions now. Lock her up, lock us both up. But in the end, I promise you, that we'll both prove as sincere and honest as we always were," said Merlin as calmly and quickly as possible. He had his hands up in surrender.

"You. Impregnated. My. Sister," Arthur said, punctuating every word with a soft push of the sword. He had the face of a manic, his eyes were glazed over with rage. Merlin had only ever seen him like this once before. The time Arthur had caught Dragoon the Great in his chambers with a poultice.

Only this time there was more yelling.

"Arthur, focus here, think clearly, you don't really want to run Merlin through in the middle of the council chambers," Lancelot said worriedly from Arthur's side.

Turning to Morgana, Arthur asked in a semi-hysterical voice, "Merlin? Really, Merlin? Of all the men you could possibly choose in a dungeon situation, you went with Merlin? Were their no ugly guards? No smelly barbarians? I mean, Merlin? Merlin? Merlin?

"You can keep saying my name, sire, but it won't make it any less true," Merlin said a bit cheekily.

It didn't seem possible, but Arthur's face turned even redder. "OUT! OUT! I WANT EVERYONE OUT! Everyone except for Merlin the impregnator. Put Morgana in the dungeon, I'll deal with her later. And for God's sake UNSHACKLE THESE TWO!" he barked out.

**FINIS**

**I've had most of the dialogue written for a while. Arthur's reaction was really fun to write. Let's see what happens when these two gentlemen are left alone in the same room. Oh snap.**


	29. Impregnator meets Enraged Brother

**I've changed this chapter around from what I originally had. At first, I thought to make Arthur more disappointed-angry than anything else. But come to think of it, I'm sure he'd be outright pissed about Merlin's deceptions. I've never written a Merthur revelation scene, so this whole area is pretty new to me. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 29**

The giant doors slammed behind him. He flinched at the sound.

Arthur didn't. He had barely moved from his "strike" position pressing the sword's tip against the very center of Merlin's chest.

Morgana had looked worried as she left the hall, although her worry had been for him. He tried to reassure her with his eyes that he'd be fine, that Arthur wouldn't dare kill him. A quick smile and short nod were all he could offer.

But he couldn't be sure. The maniacal look had left Arthur's features, but there was barely contained rage simmering below the surface.

He was in trouble, no mistake about that.

Arthur lowered the sword, scratching him slightly as it ran down his stomach. He'd barely let out a sigh of relief when Arthur started to circle him, sword lowered but still dangerously held.

"You have magic," Arthur said tonelessly. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Merlin replied unhesitantly.

"And you deflowered my sister," said Arthur. Again, it was a statement, not a question.

Trying to be ease some of the tension (and to maybe make it seem a bit less tawdry to Arthur. Maybe?) he answered, "Well, we sort of deflowered each other, but yes, I deflowered her."

The death glare Arthur gave him in the moment he said "deflowered each other" was enough to fell an army. Apparently cheek wasn't going to work here.

"And you've also impregnated my sister," said Arthur bluntly.

"Yes," he said tipping up his chin a bit. He wouldn't back down from any of it, from his responsibilities. Arthur could do as he pleased.

Putting his right arm over Merlin's shoulder, the blade pressed against his throat as Arthur whispered, "Now tell me why for any of the above reasons I shouldn't run you through where you stand? Or cut you into little bits and feed you to my dogs? Or maybe drag you behind my horse over rocky terrain?"

He swallowed and replied, "Because I've always been loyal to you. And because I love Morgana. And…Gwen might be mad."

With a growl of annoyance, Arthur lowered the sword and pushed Merlin forward. "You've been lying to me all these weeks!" Arthur then continued in a squeaky high pitched voice," 'Oh no, Arthur, nothing happened between Morgana and I in the dungeon. She was just plaaaiiin mean.' Well clearly she wasn't mean enough!"

Arthur huffed and continued his angry tirade, swiping the blade through the air with every exclamation, "Six weeks! Six bloody weeks! Six weeks and you didn't find a moment to say, 'Oh Arthur, sorry, it might be irrelevant, but I slept with your sister in Orsric's dungeon and she might be coming back to Camelot.'"

"Yeah, like you tell me all the intimate details of your sex life. And I couldn't know what she'd choose. I wanted so badly for her to choose me, but she made me no promises. She didn't even say she loved me. Was I to lay all my heartbreak and inner turmoil out for you?" retorted Merlin. He was a bit angry at Arthur's presumptuous attitude. Was it any wonder he hadn't revealed his relationship with Morgana until today? Arthur was threatening him with a sword, was he supposed to willing spell out all the details?

"No, but you could've given me a bloody hint," said Arthur through clenched teeth, frustratedly slashing the sword through the air between them.

"Just because you're a bloody prince and I'm your servant, doesn't mean you're entitled to know everything that happens in my life," said Merlin, trying to stand his ground. It was true. Arthur could be so damn nosy sometimes. His royal prattiness didn't need to know everything that went on in Merlin's life, particularly when so many of the outcomes were uncertain.

Arthur snorted then said, "Well, that's clear as you've never made it a priority to tell me the most relevant parts, have you?"

"So when was I to tell you about my magic? How about right when I got here when I witnessed an execution in the courtyard? Or how about the time where I had to convince you not to kill your father and you told me magic was used for evil? Or maybe I should've told you when your magic wielding sister took over the castle, further solidifying your hatred of magic?" Merlin asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Alright, alright, but there must've been a moment when you could have told me. When sorceresses weren't poisoning my mind or taking over my home," Arthur said, forcing Merlin to meet his steely gaze.

"You've been trained to hate magic since birth. That never made it easy," Merlin said truthfully.

"God, Merlin, do you think me totally heartless? You're my friend. Probably my most loyal one, did you think I'd just hand you over to my father?

"I don't know. I still don't know," replied Merlin. It was the truth. As much as he trusted Arthur and believed in his goodness, he was never certain how much of Uther's prejudices his son shared.

"Then why tell me now?" said Arthur, his brows furrowed.

"Because I'm sick of all the lies. I'm sick of hiding who I am. And I'm bloody well sick of you thinking I'm an incompetent idiot," said Merlin with some anger in his voice. Arthur, everyone always treated him like he was some pathetic idiot who'd had the good luck to land himself in a position of power.

Arthur seemed startled by Merlin's fervent statement and sheepishly said, "I don't think you're an idiot, alright? I never have. You're a bit cheeky and snarky sometimes, but you're wiser than you look. "

"Well thank you, Prince Arthur, those compliments almost make me blush," said Merlin sarcastically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"You know what I mean. How could you keep a secret this long? How could you lie at every turn? And have you no bloody sense, why put yourself in a position so close to someone who could end your life?" Arthur said.

"My neck depended on it and yours for that matter. You need me…..and to be honest…" said Merlin trailing off awkwardly.

"Honesty, well that's a change," muttered Arthur.

"I need you too, alright? Don't be a prat about it," admitted Merlin.

Arthur placed his sword on the long table where he and other council members had recently been seated. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he said, "I can't believe all this lying. All this deception. I can't decide who's lies are worse: yours or Morgana's?"

Merlin didn't know how to answer. Arthur sighed and asked, "Have you even for one minute considered that this might be some new plot dreamed up by her and Morgause? That all the feelings, even the dungeon could've been their way to get back into Camelot?"

"It's not. We're really in love. We really want to marry. And yes, the baby's mine. Have Gaius confirm her date of conception, if you like. But it was our last night together in Orsric's dungeon and erm…the morning, right before you rescued me. We made a promise to meet last night in the forest if she changed her mind, if she could fully commit herself to Camelot. I didn't know about the baby till this morning," Merlin said fervently.

"It could be all be lie. She's rather devious and ambitious, Merlin," said Arthur. There was a touch of pity in his voice.

"It's not a lie, Arthur. Didn't you see her? Couldn't you hear the truth in her voice? The regret and remorse?"

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've been deceived by her before. We all have. And frankly, I surprised that you would so easily and so quickly fall into her trap. Bringing her here was a mistake, but then it appears you've been making quite a lot of those lately," Arthur said sadly.

Arthur neded more proof, needed more truth. He'd tell him the darkes of his secrets, the worst of all his sins. "Morgana had more of a reason to hate me than anyone else in Camelot. Do you remember the day Morgause spirited her away from this very room?" Merlin said softly. It was painful just to remember that day.

"Yes," Arthur said warily.

"Do you remember how Morgana appeared then? Lifeless? Merlin said, his voice thick with emotion. Even now his throat burned when he spoke of it.

"Yes," said Arthur softly, his eyes never leaving Merlin's face.

"I had poisoned her with hemlock. I tricked her into drinking it from water pouch. The curse was living inside her body, killing her was the only way to stop it," said Merlin, averting his face. It was the worst thing he'd ever done. Worse than any of his other actions since his arrival here. It might've been necessary but knowing what she'd become, knowing how much of their future he could've killed that day, it was even worse than before.

He wished Morgana were here now.

"And she knew it was you who poisoned her?" asked Arthur, his voice full of suspicion.

"Yes, you should've…seen the look of betrayal, the look of hatred on her face. It still haunts my nightmares sometimes," said Merlin, shuddering.

"All the more reason for her to make an utter fool of you! To enact her revenge using you! If you're not enchanted, then you're blinded by love and lust," said Arthur shouted as if it was so obvious.

Calmly Merlin said, "Deep down, Morgana has always had a good heart. Her recent actions were wrong and misguided. She meant harm then. To us, to everyone. But I truly believe she's changed. Do you remember that night in the stairwell where you warned me away from her?"

"Yes. Although clearly that's an order you never followed," Arthur said with a petulant pout.

"When she confessed her magic, I was the one who sent her to the druids. I put her in danger because I didn't trust her enough to tell her about my own powers. Your father may have lied to her about her parentage, but I too made her feel isolated and vulnerable to someone like Morgause. Morgana might've chosen her own path, but I helped send her on her way," Merlin said.

He had to make Arthur understand. He had to make him see that Morgana had changed. He went on, "She's done a lot of terrible things, Arthur. Awful, destructive, and downright evil things to me, to you, to Gwen, to Camelot. But I believe in forgiveness, I believe in redemption. And Morgana has earned my forgiveness. She's changed, Arthur. You know how much I love Camelot and its people. I wouldn't have brought her to here if she hadn't changed. I would never put us in that type of danger."

Arthur's face showed little emotion over that speech but he didn't look angry. "Look, I know this is a lot to absorb. And I don't expect you to get over it right away, but at least think on it. Trust is a double-edged sword. It's not easily earned or easily given. Morgana's betrayed that trust and so have I. But that doesn't mean that given time, we won't earn it back. We're not all saints, Arthur. And sometimes it's the best sinners who make the greatest saints."

After another moment of silence and no response from Arthur, he said, "I'll leave you and confine myself to the dungeon with Morgana. Let us know when you reach a decision, sire."

He was halfway to the door when he turned back and said, "Just remember this: I'm the most powerful warlock in the realm and Morgana is a close second. We could easily escape the dungeon, easily remove ourselves from Camelot. But we've both chosen to stay, we've come to you because your forgiveness and your trust is absolutely essential to us. We'll wait as long as it takes, we'll do whatever we can to atone for our sins and earn back your trust."

He turned to continue his walk towards the door when Arthur called out, "Merlin?" It was the first thing he'd spoken in quite some time.

"Sire?" Merlin said questioning.

Pointing the sword directly at Merlin, Arthur said in a deadly whisper, "You'd better keep your hands and other _bits_ of your body off my sister. Because father of her child or not, I won't have any trouble running you through. Immediately and without hesitation. And that's if I'm feeling merciful, you don't want to know what would happen if I'm not. God knows I have enough reasons to do such things that would shock even Orsric."

Despite the severity of the warning, Merlin couldn't help smothering a smile. "Understood, sire."

**FINIS**

**I have at least another chapter or two to write, then maybe an epilogue? Hope you liked this. Please review!**

**Anyone care to share predictions for S5?**


	30. Gettin' Down in the Dungeon

**Apologies for the loooonnnng wait between chapters. I started another story (All's Fair) and got caught up in the Mergan****a angst that this story doesn't have anymore. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one. It's about to get steamy. Gigidy.**

Chapter 30

She wasn't a nail biter. She was a the-skin-around-the fingernails biter. It was a bad habit, one she'd had since before she could remember. *

Morgause had thought it particularly disgusting, _A sorceress doesn't nibble on her tools. A future queen doesn't keep her hand in her mouth. _

After several scolds and numerous dirty looks, she's broken the habit or so she thought.

But from the cuticle sandwich she'd just ingested, it appeared not.

Camelot's dungeon was in no way as damp or as dark as Orsric's, despite the knights placing her into the most high security cell. There was one door made entirely of iron, one tiny window at the very top of the tall room. She'd never even seen this room before, merely heard rumors of it from the knights. The door had a cutout big enough for one set of eyes to peep in. While it might be Camelot's most feared dungeon, it seemed like a castle suite after Orsric's.

She's been pacing and nibbling since they'd placed her here. Where was Merlin? She tried not to be frightened but the encounter with Arthur had left her shaken. He was so…_angry_. And surprisingly not at her. After she had told Arthur about the baby, he had damn near lost his mind. The rage, the sword, all of it directed at Merlin of all people. Sure, she understood the whole man code thing-don't leave a man behind, don't let a woman get between you, and don't ever, ever sleep with your friend's sister.

But seriously, weren't there more important things at hand? Like her many sins? It was so like Arthur to make everything seem so sordid. _Merlin the impregnator indeed_ she mumbled.

As if Merlin had somehow seduced her and then abandoned her like some rake in a ballad. And as if Merlin was the only one doing the seducing, or for that matter the enjoying.

For the first time that day she'd felt genuine fear. Arthur's wrath to her was nothing compared to the emotions Merlin had aroused in her half brother. The rage, the danger, the battle that Merlin had to face alone, well, that was more frightening than anything at all. She thought about objecting but one look from Merlin told her all. This was between them. She'd had her moment with Arthur; it was Merlin's turn now.

Waiting. She hated waiting. After so many weeks apart and a scant few moments together this morning, she needed to feel his arms around her again.

The baby had been a total surprise. Although maybe she should have foreseen this or been able to deduce it earlier from the evidence. But it was certainly a surprise. A welcome one. After all the death and all the destruction she'd created, here in her body, she and Merlin were creating life. If she'd ever doubted that she'd chosen correctly, the baby was a sign that she had.

If only said father of her child would make it through his interview with Arthur in one piece. She didn't doubt that Merlin could defend himself, but Arthur's rage somehow made him…superhuman.

Another finger popped into her mouth at the thought. Where was Merlin? Would Arthur even allow him to come here? Would he separate them?

She moved towards the door, intent on asking the knights if Merlin had returned yet. But before her hand could touch the door, it swung open and Merlin was shoved gently inside.

Gwaine and Lancelot were on the other side of the door. They looked suspiciously at her, but Gwaine said, "Now behave yourself, Merlin."

She frowned. For the love of God, why was everyone focusing on Merlin's behavior? "He's already impregnated me, Gwaine, what else can he do?" she said angrily.

"Behave yourself," Gwaine said with a rare stern look to his friend.

The door closed and they were finally alone. She threw her arms around his neck and he clasped her tightly to him.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked as he nuzzled his face into her hair.

"Me? What about you? What did Arthur say? Did he hurt you?" she asked, pulling back to search him for any injuries. Last time she'd seen him Arthur had a sword pressed against his chest.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said, his hands running over her face. "He threatened me and we talked, but he didn't harm me. He's angry. Incredibly angry at us both. I made our case as best I could, but I fear it'll be a waiting game. Arthur's stubborn and proud. He won't make this easy."

"Well, we both know it's hardly ever easy to do the right thing. But we're here and we've told him the truth. The decision is his now," she said, softly pressing her lips against his.

It started out as relief, reassurance, a little bit of comfort after the ordeal they had both suffered apart, today and all the days over the last few weeks. But it quickly became more. She needed to taste him, needed to feel his body under her fingertips and inside of her.

Her lips slanted against his, probing deeper and deeper as her hands gripped his back tightly. Every muscle in his body was taut with restraint. She could tell he was holding back, trying to be gentle. His hands were stiff as they caressed her back, restraining themselves to just that territory. But she didn't want gentle. She wanted fire and rage, she wanted to connection that had always burned bright between them.

Trailing her lips to his neck, she whispered. "I need you, Merlin. _Now_."

He gasped when she found the sensitive skin below his ear. "I promised Arthur I wouldn't put my hands or any other bits on you…"

"Well that's an arousing image," she said huskily against his skin. Her fingers trailed to his breeches. After a quick brush against his hard cock, she started to tug on the laces of his breeches.

He moaned again, but his hands stilled hers and he protested in a whisper, "Not now, Morgana. The guards…"

He trailed off as she reached for the laces of the gown she wore. She'd stolen a servant's gown, a plain brown piece of wool that was held together in the front. After she'd plucked at the laces, she pushed down the cotton chemise that held her breasts in.

He made a pained sound, half frustration, half erotic groan.

She backed towards the left corner of the cell, beckoning him with her eyes. It offered some privacy from the prying gaze of the peephole. Merlin's gaze widened as her breasts spilled open. They were slightly larger due to the pregnancy (yet another sign she'd missed).

She smirked at his heated expression. "Then we'd better be quick."

His eyes were filled with naked longing. His face reflected the internal struggle that must be going on in his mind, but he took a few steps towards her. Then a few more.

"I should…we should…wait till after the wedding…I shouldn't take you here…not like this…" he offered feebly as his body notched against hers, pressing her against the stone wall. She felt the long shaft of his manhood pressed against her center. Another rush of dampness went straight to her core. It knew exactly what Merlin offered.

"Shut up," she groaned, pulling his head down to hers for a hungry kiss. It was just soon enough. His hands cupped her heavy breasts and his mouth smothered the moan that would've notified even Arthur of their illicit activities.

Her reaction inflamed him further, he pinched her nipples between his fingers. She arched into him, her body desperate for more of everything. More of his hands, more of his body. More Merlin. Forever.

"But the baby…" he murmured as his mouth ravished the skin of her upper chest.

Her body was wet, desperate. As his mouth inched closer to her tortured nipples, she ached for the connection of their bodies. "Stop making excuses. I'm not made of glass. I won't break. I need you too much. And you need me," she gasped out as he finally clamped down on her nipple. Everything was so sensitive, it had been too long; already she was aching to feel his length deep inside of her.

It was too much. It wasn't enough. She roughly pushed his breeches down and his cock sprung free. He groaned in relief as he pulled fistfuls of her skirt up.

She liked him like this. Wild. Out of control. He was also so restrained, so calm in the face of danger. It was more than a little erotic to see him so unsettled, so affected by the sensations that passed between them. The air in the dungeon felt cool against her bare legs, but she shivered with an entirely different feeling. Her drawers quickly followed and she was naked from the waist down.

His hands ran down her thighs as his cock brushed against her wet opening. She couldn't take much more of this. "Please," she breathed. "Now."

He grabbed her knee and pulled it up, then thrust his body deep inside. Her back bowed against the wall as she bit her lip to keep down a loud cry.

He withdrew and then slammed back into her. Over and over and over again. It was incredible. Fast. Raw. Frenzied. Just what she needed. She withered against the wall, her leg clamped around his waist. Their breaths mingled as his every thrust rocked both their bodies.

His hands were everywhere—sliding from ankle to thigh, running over her neck, fondling her breasts. They'd been apart too long, with too many struggles and difficulties to stand between them. Now, connected, it to was all too much. The intimacy of the moment, the raw emotions that surged between their connected bodies was potent. Her body tightened and throbbed, then suddenly it tensed at the precipice.

Their eyes met. _Mine_. _Mine. _Possession. Love Lust. It all blended together in that one moment, and she couldn't hold back any longer.

She crashed over the edge. Her nails scored his skin as she bit into his shoulder to muffle her scream. She shuddered violently against him as spasms of white-hot pleasure twisted her body. He pumped faster and faster, heightening her pleasure. And then he promptly growled through clenched teeth, his body stiffening inside of her, his hot seed filling her convulsing core.

It seemed to go on forever, their bodies writhing together in a state of pure bliss. One.

They were both breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. Still shaking in the aftermath, they were too exhausted to move, despite the danger of intrusion.

After a few moments, he withdrew from her. Then he drew back to stare at her, a worried frown on his brow. "Are you alright, love? I didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't mean to be so rough-"

"No, it's fine. We're fine. Stop worrying, Merlin," she said smiling and putting her leg to the ground.

A mischievous smile played over his reddened lips. "It was pretty…nice, wasn't it?"

"No, it was terrible. Awful. I think we might have to do it again. You know, to prove that you're better at this," she teased as she settled her skirts.

"Saucy wench," he said as he drew up the top of her dress. He gave her breast a playful pinch.

"You love it."

"That I do. Now, I don't know about you, but with all this excitement-swords nearly hacking off my head, Arthur yelling, a marriage proposal, a baby, and our little reconciliation- I think we deserve a nap, don't you?" he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the rough bed on the floor of the dungeon.

"I couldn't agree more," she said, laying down with her back to Merlin. He pulled her closer, his hand settled on her stomach. She covered his hand with hers. Their bodies fit together like pages in a book. She felt tears prickle in her eyes; she'd missed the solid weight of his body by her side, so much. It seemed to make everything alright. "But be sure to keep your bits off me. I wouldn't want Arthur taking umbrage at your presence here," she finished with a chuckle.

"Oh, I can keep my _bits _off you, love. Although that means I might have to find more creative ways to pleasure you…ones that might bring the whole of Camelot around our ears with your screams," he said with a seductive whisper.

**FINIS**

***I actually have this disgusting habit. My fiancée calls it "self-cannibalism". Freud might say I have an oral fixation. Very true. **

**So, what did you think of this chapter? I have at least two chapters left, which will include some of the aftermath of the truth-telling that happened in the past few chapters. Maybe an epilogue? Please review! **

**As the review number creeps closer and closer to 600 (holy crap), I want to give another BIG to all my reviewers. To those of you who've only reviewed once and to those of you who've reviewed every chapter from the beginning. I appreciate all your thoughts, criticisms, and insights into this story (and all my others). I usually argue that writing isn't a gift, it's a skill that needs development. By reading and reviewing my work, you've given me to opportunity to practice and tweak that skill, not to mention boosted my confidence and esteem in my own prose. Thank you!**


	31. Happenings

**It's short and kind of filler, but it's something, right? **

Chapter 31

They peered through the small square peephole into the dungeon.

The couple was sleeping soundly, Merlin spooning Morgana, his hand on her flat stomach. Despite the surroundings, they presented a beautiful picture. Peaceful even. And they slept on.

As if they didn't have a care in the world. As if the noose wasn't hanging over their heads. As if a magical revelation and pregnancy scandal hadn't just rocked Camelot.

"Do you believe her, sire?" asked Gaius, a frown on his wrinkled brow.

Arthur's pouted lips and deadly scowl showed his skepticism. "I don't know, Gaius. It wouldn't be the first time she's pretended emotions and regrets she didn't feel. We've been played by her before."

Gaius nodded and glanced at Arthur from the corner of his eye. "What about Merlin? What do you plan to do with him?"

"Yes, what about Merlin?" said Arthur with a deepened frown. "I'm going to assume that you knew about him."

"Since he arrived. He burst into the room, startled me to the point that I fell off the staircase, and used magic to save me from a rather nasty fall. Saved my life that day, several other times too. What will you do to him?

Sighing, the prince responded. "Honestly, I don't know."

A few moments passed in comtemplative silence. "He's incredibly powerful. I've never seen his like, even when magic was welcome at Camelot," said Gaius.

Arthur's frown returned. "He said as much. How powerful is he?"

"As dangerous as you are with a sword, that's how dangerous Merlin is with magic. Defintely more powerful than Morgana. He'd even eclipse Morgause and Nimeh. He didn't learn it. He was born with magic-that's not a common occurrence. Yet all this time, he's only used his power for good."

Arthur seemed to weigh those words, then sighed and said, "I can't think on that right now, I've got a treacherous and potentially pregnant witch, who is also my sister, in the dungeons. Did he give you any clue about this?"

"Not a word. I did catch him sneaking out this morning, but he said that if whatever it was happened, then I'd certainly know about it. It appears whatever 'it' was has occurred."

Despite the gravity and seriousness of the situation, Arthur let out a small chuckle. "Indeed."

* * *

><p><em>8ish months later.<em>

It felt like someone was stabbing her in the spine. She twisted slightly but the pain eased only a degree.

A small moan escaped her lips and that was enough to awaken Merlin.

He shot up and stared down at her, his face harried as he asked anxiously, "Is it time?" His hands ran over her bulging belly as his eyes darted from her face to her stomach in pure panic.

The extremely terrified look on his face was enough to earn her kindness, even if his paranoia was not. "No, you idiot, I merely have a sore back from this floor. It'll abate as soon as I stretch. Don't be such a ninny."

He visibly relaxed, the tension loosening the muscles in his face as he began to rub her knotted back. "You could be upstairs in a castle suite waking up on a feather bed. But noooooo, you had to be stubborn and prove a point," he chastised. After Camelot's knights had protested it was cruel and unsual punishment to keep a pregant woman in the dungeon, Arthur had offered her a suite used for courtly prisoners. She'd promptly refused, citing that she hadn't given the knights or anyone else such a concession. She'd made their bed, now she'd have to lie in it herself.

"It's an important point, sweetheart. Yes, yes, right there," she finished with a contented moan as his fingers found the sore spot.

"Bollocks. Not even the most bloodthirsty of the group expects a pregnant woman to sleep in the dungeon. On the floor," he said, disapproval evident in his voice. "What if it affects the baby? He has to sleep here too."

"Plenty of women make it through pregnancy without the benefit of feather beds and silk sheets. Your mother, for example. And you turned out perfectly fine. Well, fine enough, I suppose," she said teasing.

"Watch it, minx, these fingers don't like your insults," he said, reaching down to pinch her bottom.

She chuckled as he went right back to massaging her lower back. "You could've slept upstairs," she admitted with a sigh.

"And leave you? Never. Although after you decided to stay down here, Arthur only suggested that a few hundred times."

"True. He's become very protective of me. And despite all of this," she said, waving her hand to indicate her swollen belly. "He still thinks of you as 'Merlin the Impregnator'."

He smiled at the nickname. "Your fortitude has impressed him. He'll forgive you in time," he said burying his nose in her hair.

"I know. It's just….I'm not sure if I deserve his forgiveness. Or anyone else's for that matter," she said with a frown.

For the past eight months, Arthur had granted her the opportunity to apologize and reconcile with the people. Once a week the people of Camelot aired their grievances against the Lady Morgana.

It had been such a sobering experience, to see all of the pain, all of the sins she'd committed against people she knew, people she didn't. To have all her sins lain at her feet, all the consequences of her rashness drawn in vivid detail by the horrific stories of villagers, plain on the faces of grieving families.

She'd cried with them. Sat silent and contrite while they raged at her. Apologized profusely. Promised them anything within her power to give. She'd even been slapped a few times.

Despite some of the initial rumors, it wasn't a show or a performance done for the audience. She was answering for her crimes. And the people had answered.

While Arthur's initial reaction had been uncertain, he had decided that his opinion was just one of many. Everyone was hurt by Morgana's deflection; the people needed to speak, to decide what to do with her.

More often than not after such an audience, the people had asked Prince Arthur for leniency for Lady Morgana.

And it seemed as if the whole experience as cathartic for the entire kingdom. Telling their stories, reliving the pain of time spent under her rule had purged the putrid infection from Camelot's wound.

The last of the victims were slated to speak today. Her judgement would be procured then, to be enacted after the birth of the baby.

Merlin's voice called her back to this moment. "Yet you've earned it nonetheless. Forgiveness is our most divine capability. A testament to our belief in redemption, in change. You forgave me, right?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, turning to look into his blue eyes. "But I've done far more evil than you."

"And I forgave you. All of us are capable of evil, Morgana. Everyone. But it's our faith in each other, our faith in forgiveness that eventually saves us. It saved us, didn't it? And it'll save Camelot too," he said earnestly.

A moment passed in silence. Then she smiled and said, "You're growing quite wise in your old age. I think I might keep you around for a while."

"How about another fifty years or so?"

"Sounds lovely," she whispered, pulling his head down for a kiss.

But in the back of her mind, she was still worried. Could they make such promises to each other?

FINIS

**One, maybe two more chapters on this fic. After all the months away from this story, I'm glad that I got to put something up, even if it wasn't as much as expected. Thanks to everyone for the continued support! I hope to have the next chapter up soon.**


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